An Eye for an Eye
by CaroH
Summary: Callen's past comes back to haunt him.
1. Chapter 1

Because I have a short attention span I thought I would try out this new story idea. It is inspired in part by the Season One episode Past Lives. Reviews and constructive criticism would be welcome.

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter One**

Hetty recognized the look. She could always read the mood of any member of her team, even those who spent their lives working under cover. Eric, however, was the easiest. Her gifted technical operator was almost incapable of hiding his thoughts and feelings. Whatever he had to tell her had caused him a deep apprehension.

"Yes, Mr. Beale." She leaned back in her chair and smothered a smile. He looked very much like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Um, Hetty, I need to talk to you about an email we just received."

"Of course. Why don't you sit down?"

Eric lowered himself into the chair, holding his tablet against his chest as if it was a safety blanket. "The email came to the account belonging to Jason Tedrow."

Hetty frowned. "I thought that alias had been retired."

"We kept the account open." Eric thrust the tablet toward Hetty. "You need to read this."

The message was brief. Hetty read it several times while her mind ranged over a myriad of scenarios. "Where is Mr. Callen?"

"At the boat shed with Sam."

"Ask him to come back."

"Should I tell him why?"

"No. I will tell him when he gets here. Did you check the origin of the email?"

"It's legitimate. It came from an account registered to Kristen Boyd and it originated from her home address."

"I see. You had better tell Mr. Callen that I have something urgent to discuss with him."

While she waited Hetty pulled up the file on Jason Tedrow, an alias adopted by Callen six years earlier. While posing as a corrupt military policeman he had become romantically involved with Kristen Donnelly, the sister of one of the suspects. Two years ago he had been forced to confront his feelings for her while investigating the death of her brother. She had moved on and wanted nothing to do with him. It had been difficult to stand back and watch him bury his undeniable affection for the woman under a façade of indifference. Not even Sam had been able to get him to talk about it.

When Callen walked into the office she could see that he was curious but not unduly alarmed. "What's so important that I had to leave Sam on his own to interrogate our suspect?" he asked.

"I think you had better sit down."

"Are you okay, Hetty?"

"You received an email this afternoon from Kristen Boyd. It was sent to Jason Tedrow's email account but she used your real name in the message."

"That's not possible. She doesn't know my name. I was going to tell her…" his eyes darkened with emotion. "She didn't want to know. What else does it say?"

"That she needs to see you. There is no reason given."

Callen licked his lips before looking away. Hetty thought that he looked very vulnerable and that worried her.

"You should go and see what she wants. She stresses that you are to go alone. Be very careful. Someone has told her who you are."

"Or someone has used her account to send me that message."

"That is also possible. Keep your comlink open. Eric will monitor your situation."

"She married Tommy Boyd. Why would she want to see me now?"

"There's only one way to find out."

NCISLA

Callen parked his Mercedes outside Kristen's house. The front yard was a neat as when he had last visited more than two years ago. This time, though, there was no sign of her son. He sat in the car while he tried to sort out his feelings. His time with Kristen had been the closest he'd come to having a normal family life. Occasionally he'd allowed himself to believe that it could continue, even though he'd known in his heart that walking away was the only option. When he saw her again she had matured and blossomed. He'd felt the same spark between them but she'd been the one with the courage to tell him that there could be nothing between them. Although he had tried to forget her, she would always have a special place in his affections.

He got out of the car and walked to the front door. It opened before he had a chance to ring the bell. His greeting stuck in his throat when he saw that she had been crying. "What's wrong?"

"Come in." She stood to one side so that he could enter the house.

Callen could see that she was trembling and his first instinct was to take her in his arms and comfort her. Something in her expression stopped him from touching her.

"Where's Tommy?"

"He…he died a year ago."

"I'm sorry." He followed her into the kitchen. "Tell me what's going on. How did you find out my name?"

"I have a message for you." Tears began to stream down her face. "They said if I do as I'm told they won't hurt him."

Callen stared at her. "Hurt who?" He looked round frantically. "Michael? Someone's taken Michael?"

Kristen nodded and began to sob. "He was at school. A woman told his teacher that I had sent her to collect him. She had a letter with my signature giving permission. They let her walk out with him. They let her take my son."

"We'll find him," Callen said fiercely.

"No, you don't understand. If we tell the police or you involve the agency you work for they're going to kill him."

Callen's blood ran cold. He reached up and turned off his comlink. "What do they want? Kristen, you know I'll do anything to get him back."

"They're going to call here in thirty minutes with instructions."

"Alright. I'll send a message to my people telling them to stay away." Callen pulled out his phone, typed a brief message and then removed the SIM card and battery. He poured a glass of water and dumped both into the liquid. "Once I leave here no-one will be able to track me. What can you tell me about the people who took him?"

"A man called me to say they had Michael. He told me to check with the school without alerting them to the fact that he'd been kidnapped. When he called back he said I was to contact you. He told me you work for NCIS and that your name is Callen."

"Did this man have an accent?"

"Yes. Russian maybe. I…I don't know. I was panicking too much. When I said I didn't have any way to reach you he called me a liar. He said that an email to Jason Tedrow would bring you to me." She grabbed Callen's arm. "How did he know? Why is this happening?"

"I don't know."

"What are you? What makes you so important?"

"I'm a Federal Agent and I've made a lot of enemies over the years. What I don't understand is why they would use you and Michael to get to me. They would have no reason to think I would still have feelings for you."

Kristen looked into his eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "I lied to you about Michael. I'm sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. He's your son and somehow they found out."

Callen's heart lurched. He didn't doubt her for a second. Despite her earlier denial a small part of him had always known that Michael was his. He had a son and he would give his life to bring his boy home.

Tbc

Caroline

January, 2013


	2. Chapter 2

Although this has been very Callen-centric so far I can assure you that the rest of the team will be fully involved in this story. I know some will have a problem with the subject of the story but I hope you will give it time. However, if there isn't enough interest it's unlikely that I will continue.

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Two**

Callen sat hunched forward on the brown leather sofa while a myriad of unaccustomed emotions overwhelmed him. He didn't know how to be a father. He had no memory of his own father and only hazy memories of his mother. The most vivid picture he had in his mind was of the day his mother was murdered. His time in foster care had been a mix of good and bad, mostly bad, leaving him with no male role model and a deeply ingrained reluctance to trust anyone.

Watching Sam with his children had been a revelation, showing him what he had missed while giving him a taste of what it felt like to have a family. He would be eternally grateful to his partner for that opportunity. He glanced at Kristen who had chosen a chair as far away from him as she could get. He didn't blame her. She'd been deceived, abandoned and now feared for her son's life because of him.

He needed to shake this feeling of paralysis. Michael's life depended upon how he handled the people who had decided to hurt him in the most personal way possible. "What else did they say," he asked in a voice rough with emotion. "Anything you can remember might help. Did you hear any noises in the background of the call?" He could see that she was struggling to find a level of composure.

"I've told you everything I can remember. I wasn't paying attention to anything else once they told me they had Michael. I can't turn off my emotions like you can," she added cruelly.

"I know you hate me and I deserve it but the only person who matters at the moment is Michael." There was ice crawling through his veins, numbing him to the normal instinctive human emotions that could be fatal for an agent. It was essential that he leash his feelings. He had to treat this like any other operation. "How would they have found out that Michael is my son?"

"I don't know. Your name isn't on his birth records."

"He doesn't know?"

"He thinks Tommy was his father."

That hurt, although he knew Kristen had been left with no means to contact him. Even if she had wanted to tell him the truth it would have been impossible for her to find him. "Why didn't you tell me two years ago?"

She looked away, a hint of color in her cheeks. "I'd moved on and I didn't want you in Michael's life."

"You don't have to worry about that," he said bitterly. "It isn't safe to be around me. Once I get him home you can forget we ever met." This wasn't the time to tell her that he was unlikely to survive whatever was coming for him. His only desire was to pull his son clear before the end.

"Do you…do you think they'll hurt him?" She looked at him, her eyes wide. It had taken courage to ask that question.

"No. They need him to draw me out. He's a valuable hostage. If I do exactly what they want there will be no reason to hurt him." He wasn't sure if she believed him although he hoped he had sounded convincing. In his experience those who were prepared to use a child in this way had no conscience. They were unlikely to inflict wanton violence on the boy but wouldn't hesitate to hurt or kill him if they felt it was necessary.

"You've dealt with cases like this before?"

"A few."

"Did you save the child?" She held her breath while she waited for his answer.

His gaze was direct and open, filled with a confidence he didn't feel. "Yes."

The harsh sound of the telephone startled both of them. Kristen jumped up and then hesitated. "What do I do?"

Callen stood more slowly, the calm of a seasoned operative finally settling over him. "Nothing." He picked up the handset. "Callen."

NCISLA

When Sam arrived back at the Mission he looked around for his partner. When there was no sign of Callen he walked across to Hetty's office. "Where's G?"

"Mr. Callen is operational," Hetty replied carefully.

"Alone?" Sam asked.

"For the moment. There is something you need to hear." Hetty stood. "Join me in Ops."

Sam followed her with a feeling of foreboding. "What's going on, Hetty?"

"You'll understand in a minute."

They entered the Ops Center and Sam could immediately feel the tension. Neither Eric nor Nell would look at him.

"Do you remember Kristen Donnelly?" Hetty asked.

The question was unexpected and puzzling. "Yeah. Callen took a long time to get over seeing her again. Has something happened to her?"

"Not to her. Play the recording, Mr. Beale."

Sam listened to the conversation between Callen and Kristen with mounting concern. "Why would someone take the boy?" he asked.

Hetty looked at him steadily. "Because he's Mr. Callen's son."

Sam frowned in confusion. "That's not what she told him."

"I'm afraid she lied. No doubt she had her reasons."

"How do you know?"

"That isn't important."

"Does Callen know?" Sam could imagine how his partner would take the news. Despite his upbringing Callen had a deep well of affection for those he allowed to get close. To be able to surround a child with love would have gone a long way to healing the hurt of a man who knew what it was like to be abandoned. His next thought was for the boy. He knew how he would feel if anyone took one of his children. He wouldn't rest until they were safe and the people responsible were dead.

"He may have suspected. We can't be sure what Ms. Donnelly has now told him. What concerns me most is that he has gone off the grid. As soon as she told him to keep us out of it he deactivated his comlink and his phone."

"We're not going to let him handle this alone," Sam stated. "Send me the address."

"It's too late for that. It's been more than thirty minutes since we lost contact with him. The kidnappers will already have called and it is unlikely that he will still be at the house."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked accusingly.

"You could never have reached him in time and we couldn't jeopardize the safety of that little boy."

"How do we find him?"

"We're running a kaleidoscope search, Sam," Eric said. "It's a long shot and we know Callen's good at staying away from cameras. If he doesn't want to be found it'll take a miracle to locate him."

"That's not good enough. We need to talk to the mother."

"I agree, which is why I have sent Miss Blye to her house. Detective Deeks will provide back-up. You will stay here until we know more."

"You can't ask me to do that."

"We have no choice. Whoever we are dealing with knows who Mr. Callen is and that he is a NCIS agent. It is likely they have been watching him which means they will know who you are. If they have someone watching the house and they see you things will not go well."

"If we've been under surveillance they'll recognize Kensi."

"We have significantly changed her appearance. It's the best we could do in the time available. She should arrive at her destination within the next few minutes."

"This is a personal attack, Hetty. Who would go to all this trouble?"

"If you had asked me that a year ago I would have said the Comescu family. When he killed Dracul Comescu in Hawaii that threat disappeared. We will have to watch and wait and hope that we get a lead before it is too late."

Tbc

Caroline

February, 2013


	3. Chapter 3

The interest in this story seems to have increased. I am very grateful to everyone who is reading, who has sent reviews and who has set up alerts and favourites. It is time for some answers. I hope you enjoy finding out who is behind this.

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Three**

Kensi visited half a dozen houses pretending to sell a subscription to a fictitious New Age magazine before she reached the home of Kristen Donnelly and her son.

"I dig the hippy chick look," Deeks said in her ear.

She decided to ignore the comment. Her dark hair was hidden by a wig of light brown with purple highlights. All her makeup had been removed and her eyes were hidden by dark rimmed tinted sunglasses. She was wearing a long loose-fitting sundress which swirled around her legs as she walked. Flat sandals and strings of beads at her throat and wrists completed her disguise.

"If you came to my house dressed like that I'd buy whatever you were selling," Deeks continued suggestively.

"You'll never get the chance," she responded acidly.

Deeks was waiting in their car down the block. He had a clear view of the house and could be on the scene in seconds if there was trouble. Kensi reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a flyer advertising the magazine. Her fingers brushed reassuringly against the handle of her gun.

"Any sign of surveillance?" she asked.

"None. If they're watching they're very good at keeping out of sight."

"Callen's car is still here," she said softly, looking at the black Mercedes.

"You think he's in the house?" Deeks asked.

"If he is he's going to be pissed." Kensi took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

It opened almost immediately. Kensi recognized the woman from photographs Hetty had shown them. The look of hope on Kristen's face disappeared when she realized that it was a stranger.

"Hi," Kensi said brightly. "Would you be interested in purchasing a subscription to the Moon and Star magazine?" She pressed the flyer into Kristen's hand.

This was the first time she had met the woman who had captured Callen's heart. She saw that Kristen was slender and only a couple of inches shorter than her. Her heart-shaped face was pale and there were lines of tension around her mouth. Brown hair had been pulled back into a pony tail. The blue eyes were rimmed with red. Kensi couldn't immediately identify what would have attracted her enigmatic team leader who normally shied away from relationships and commitment.

"I'm sorry. This isn't a good time." Kristen began to close the door.

"My name is Kensi Blye. I work with Callen," Kensi said hurriedly. "Try not to react and just listen. Is he here?"

Kristen shook her head.

"Do you know where he went?"

"No. He wouldn't tell me." A spark of anger lit up her face. "You shouldn't be here."

"We don't think anyone's watching you. It's Callen they want. When did he leave?"

"You have no right to risk my son's life," Kristen hissed.

"Believe me, that isn't our intention. We want to get Michael and Callen back safely."

"Go away."

Kensi put out a hand to stop Kristen slamming the door. "You need to trust me. This is what we do and we're very good at it."

"I'm done trusting anyone."

Now Kensi could see the strength of character which had been hidden by fear. In sheer stubbornness Kristen Donnelly was a match for Callen. Kensi began to sense that it had been an equal partnership. Kristen wasn't the kind of person who would just fall for a good-looking man with a smooth pick-up line any more than Callen would be interested in a woman based upon looks alone.

"I understand but you're trusting Callen to get Michael back and he trusts us. Do you know how hard that is for him? It's not my place to tell you about his life. I can tell you that it's rare for him to let his barriers down. If he let you into his life you must be very special to him. We won't do anything to risk harm coming to Michael. We just want to be there to provide back up if Callen needs it."

Kristen's stare was uncompromising. Finally she gave a small nod. "He left forty-five minutes ago in a cab."

"Do you know which company?"

"Yellow cabs."

"Thank you."

"Are you a Federal Agent?"

"Yes."

"I want my son back, Agent Blye. He's all I have. I can't imagine my life without him and I will kill anyone who hurts him."

Kensi turned away and heard the door closing behind her.

"Wow," Deeks said. "I wouldn't want to take her on. I bet she's a real handful."

"Ask Eric to contact the cab company. Find out where Callen went."

"Already on it."

NCISLA

Callen followed the instructions exactly. His gun and ear wig were locked in the car and he was completely unarmed. He told the cab driver to take him in the opposite direction to his final destination. After he was dropped off he walked four blocks discarding his watch, credit cards and leather jacket. He paid cash for a brown combat style coat, a new watch and a pair of cheap sunglasses. Every move he made avoided traffic cameras and he kept well away from banks and ATMs to limit the possibility of Eric finding him with kaleidoscope.

He changed cabs twice more before arriving half a mile from Griffith Park. He'd been surprised that the meeting was to be in a public place. He was to wait at the Crystal Springs picnic area which he knew was a huge open area. It was unlikely they would have Michael with them although he could be held close by in a vehicle.

While he walked he considered the meagre amount of information available to him. Kristen had been contacted by a man with an accent, possibly Russian. There was at least one woman involved. The call he had received was from a woman with no discernible accent. Was she the one who had abducted Michael from his school? His demand to speak to his son had been denied and he wasn't in any position to bargain. Their endgame was still unknown although he expected to be required to trade his life for Michael's.

The pathways weren't busy. It was the middle of a weekday when most people would be at work. He stayed alert even though the possibility of an ambush was slim. When he came in sight of the picnic tables he saw that only two were occupied by a group of young mothers with strollers. He chose a table at the opposite side and sat trying to appear relaxed.

One of the babies began to cry but was quickly soothed into silence. It made him wonder what it would have been like to watch the birth of his son; to hold that tiny helpless creature and keep him safe. He had trained himself not to think about how his life could have been. Although he was still searching for answers he had long accepted that the past couldn't be changed. The sharp pang of loss, therefore, was unexpected and unwelcome. Whatever happened he would never share Michael's life.

After twenty minutes his anxiety was skyrocketing. Reminding himself that this was a commonly used tactic to disconcert an opponent wasn't helping. He felt alone and vulnerable and all he wanted was to see Michael to make sure the boy was unharmed. Two people, a man and a woman, approached from the direction of the car park. He was immediately on his guard even though he did not recognize either of them.

The man was wearing a well-fitting suit which undoubtedly concealed a shoulder holster. He had the watchful demeanour of a predator. His companion was fashionably dressed in cream pants and a matching blouse which accentuated her slim waist and the curve of her hips. Straight dark hair ended at her shoulders. Her eyes were hidden behind opaque sunglasses and her skin was evenly tanned. They looked completely out-of-place.

Twenty feet from his position the man stopped allowing the woman to continue alone. She showed no apprehension about approaching someone who could kill her a dozen different ways before her bodyguard could react. She knew he was helpless because of the threat to his son. She sat beside him on the bench, her back straight and her hands lying loosely in her lap.

"Where's the boy?" Callen asked.

"A long way from here."

This wasn't the woman he had spoken to on the phone. He found her accent to be an unusual mix of eastern European and South American. "That wasn't our deal. I want to see him."

"That isn't possible. You can see him soon."

"What's this about?"

For the first time she turned to look at him. When she removed her sunglasses he saw that she had green eyes and that she was older than he had first thought, probably mid-thirties. "You really have no idea who I am?" she asked.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"My name is Ilena Vadim."

Callen stared at her shocked speechless. His thoughts flew back to the Black Sea coast of Romania and Hunter telling him that she was masquerading as a member of the Comescu family. Ilena Vadim had been taken to Argentina by her father when she was a little girl. According to Hunter she wanted nothing to do with her mother's side of the family. The woman sitting next to him was Alexa Comescu's niece.

"You recognize the name?" she asked. "Good. Your son is on his way to the beach house where you slaughtered my family. You have three days to get there or he will die just like your mother died."

"You've got it wrong," Callen said, striving for calm. "Michael Donnelly isn't my son."

Ilena laughed. "It must have been a surprise to learn you are a father. I can assure you that there is no mistake. The boy has Callen blood in his veins."

Further denials were pointless. "He's a child. I want an assurance that he is unharmed."

"He misses his mother but the journey is an adventure for him." Ilena pulled out her phone and turned it so that he could see the screen. "This picture was taken two hours ago."

Callen's heart lurched. This was his first glimpse of Michael for two years and he studied the innocent face intently. There was no sign of injury and the child didn't look scared or upset. "If I do what you want you'll let him go?"

Her lips curled in a cruel smile. "Of course." She stood up and looked down at his dazed face. "Three days and this time you come alone. I look forward to our next meeting."

Callen felt ill. When he had been only slightly younger than Michael he had seen his mother murdered. He didn't know why he and his sister had been allowed to live but he had the sick feeling that Ilena wouldn't make the same mistake. For all he knew his son could have been killed immediately after the picture was taken, but he had no choice. He had to return to the land of his birth and hope that there was a way to escape the fate planned for him and his son by the last surviving member of the Comescu family.

Tbc

Caroline

February, 2013


	4. Chapter 4

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Four**

"Anything?"

Eric jumped when he heard Sam's voice immediately behind him. He waited for his heart to stop pounding before answering. "Nothing, Sam. Sorry."

"You aren't helping, Mr. Hanna," Hetty said with an unusual sharpness to her tone. "Mr. Beale won't work any harder with you looking over his shoulder."

"We should be doing more." Sam moved away and Eric breathed a sigh of relief.

"What do you suggest?" Hetty asked. "We are monitoring Ms. Donnelly's phone and Miss Jones is cross referencing all Mr. Callen's aliases with passenger lists for every form of transport. We can assume that the location he was taken to by taxi bears no resemblance to the meeting point so that doesn't help us. Kaleidoscope is running a continuous search and Mr. Beale has checked footage for all cameras in the vicinity of the drop off point. He has disappeared again."

The door to the Ops Center slid open to admit Kensi and Deeks. "Any news?" Kensi asked. She had changed out of her disguise and was once again dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She looked strained and anxious.

"I'm afraid not."

The sound of Sam's phone ringing cut through the thick atmosphere of helpless desperation. He answered without checking the number. "Hanna. G? Where are you? Wait, I'm putting you on speaker."

"Do you have the child, Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked the question that was at the front of everyone's mind.

The silence overflowed with tension. "No."

"Do you know who took him?" Sam asked. "What do they want?"

"I'm on my way to the boat shed. I'll explain there. Can you bring Kristen? She has the right to hear this."

"I thought you were warned not to involve us?" Sam was concerned by the flatness of his partner's voice even though he was happily surprised that Callen was reaching out to them.

"It doesn't matter anymore and I can't get him back on my own."

Hetty cleared her throat. "Were you given proof of life?"

It was a fair question yet it still made Sam's stomach roil. He didn't have to imagine Callen's pain. He knew exactly how he would feel if this was happening to his family. What he couldn't comprehend was the cruel turn of fate that had gifted his friend with a son and then snatched him away.

"Yes." Callen's reply was terse.

"And you believe it was genuine?" Hetty asked gently.

"He's alive," Callen stated with utmost conviction. "Send Kensi and Deeks to fetch Kristen.

"What do we tell her?" Deeks asked uneasily.

"Tell her I know where he is and that I'm going to bring him home."

"Is that the truth?" Hetty asked.

"It's all the truth that will matter to her. Sam, meet me at the boat shed. I need to talk to you before she arrives. Hetty, I'll call you in five minutes. There's something we need to discuss."

NCISLA

Callen dialed Hetty's private number as soon as he arrived at the boat shed. She answered on the first ring. "He's been taken by Ilena Vadim," he said without preamble. He heard her gasp and plowed ruthlessly on, not giving her time to interject. "I'm going to Romania to get him back. She warned me not to bring anyone so you have to find a way to get Sam, Kensi and Deeks into the country without going through any of the main airports."

"You've met her?"

"Yes. She blames me for the death of her family. This is her way of getting revenge. Ask Nell to find out everything she can about her. See if there's anything we can use as leverage."

"Of course. What else do you need?"

"A scheduled flight to Bucharest leaving tonight. I'll hire a car there and drive the rest of the way. We'll need a night to plan before I turn myself over to her."

"I'll make the arrangements."

"Good. I'll brief Sam when he gets here and he can tell the others. There's something else." Of all the decisions he'd been forced to make that day this had been the hardest. "I'm going to tell Kristen some of it. She has the right to know why her son's been kidnapped. While I'm gone you have to persuade her to go into witness protection once Michael comes home."

"Are you sure? You could…"

"Hetty! The chances of me coming back are slim and I'm fine with that. I'll do whatever it takes to rescue him. Even if I survive what future would there be for me and Kristen? Do you think she'll want to see me again? I'm responsible for this."

"It isn't your fault. You had no idea that you had a son. If you had we could have taken the proper precautions."

Callen started to pace, unable to keep still. "They took him because of me. I won't risk Michael or Kristen being used as pawns again. Get them a new identity and relocate them. I don't want to know the details."

"You grew up without a father. You don't even know his identity. Is that the life you want for your son?"

"He thinks Tommy was his father. Knowing about me just risks the cycle of violence and death continuing. I don't want him to know about me or my history. So far as everyone is concerned the Callen bloodline stops here."

"I think you're making a mistake."

"This is my decision to make," he warned.

"Doesn't Ms. Donnelly get any say? And what about Michael?"

The taste of bile soured his mouth. "She made her decision when she lied to me about his parentage. She was right and he'll be happier if he never knows I existed." He looked over to the door. "Sam's here. Make the arrangements, Hetty. I've made up my mind." He hung up, his hand shaking.

Sam looked at him critically. "It's not like you to ask for help so this must be bad."

"It is." Exhaustion washed over him in waves. He'd been operating on adrenaline for hours and his body was rebelling. He sat down and clasped his hands together to stop the tremors. "Michael's on his way to Romania."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "The Comescus? It can't be, G. They're all dead."

"Not all of them. Remember Hunter posing as Ilena Vadim? She said the real Ilena didn't want anything to do with her family. I guess that changed. She's taken up the blood feud and wants me dead. It appeals to her twisted logic to kill me at the family home on the Black Sea. She's using Michael to get me there."

"We should have seen this coming."

"I've thought about that. There wasn't any reason to think she'd seek revenge."

"What do you want us to do?"

"Bring Michael home. She won't do anything to hurt him until I'm there. This will go one of two ways. Either she'll kill me in front of him…put him through what I witnessed when I was a boy, or she'll force me to watch while she kills him first. Either way she doesn't intend for us to survive. She won't make the same mistake of leaving him alive. Your job is to save him."

"You don't have to surrender to her," Sam argued. "We know the layout of the house. We can stage a rescue."

Callen shook his head. "It's too risky. I need her focussed on me and I can make sure that happens. Hetty's finding a way to get you into the country without Ilena finding out. We can assume she has informants at the airports. I can evade any tail she puts on me but she probably won't bother. She knows I'll come to her. We'll meet at the abandoned garage we used before. It's unlikely she knows about it. By keeping you off a commercial flight you'll be able to bring weapons." He gave Sam a half-smile. "We won't have to rely on buying black market guns this time."

"Just as well. You know what I think about them."

"Yeah."

"What are you going to tell Kristen?"

"I haven't decided yet. She doesn't need to know everything." Callen leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I thought this nightmare was over. I spent most of my life oblivious to my past. If it hadn't been for Hetty I'd probably never have taken on the Comescu family."

"If it hadn't been for Hetty the Comescus would have killed you and you wouldn't have seen it coming."

"Maybe." He opened his eyes and looked earnestly at his partner. "Michael is all that matters. Do you understand? If it means leaving me behind you do it. Promise me, Sam."

As Callen's friend his first impulse was to refuse. As a father he understood only too well. "I promise."

Tbc

March

Caroline, 2013


	5. Chapter 5

I'd intended to focus my attention on Presumption of Innocence but I'm just not feeling it. This story has grabbed my imagination and is begging for resolution.

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Five**

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air in the boat shed. Sam glanced at his partner, his concern escalating. If he didn't know better he would think Callen had fallen asleep. It was the uneven rise and fall of Callen's chest that betrayed the truth. His partner was teetering on the edge of an abyss; operating in an alien environment without a point of reference. Sam wasn't sure how to help except in his usual practical manner. He would follow Callen's lead and put his life on the line without a second thought.

Nothing had been said since he'd promised to save Michael at any cost. It was a promise he would keep but only if there was no other choice. His partner was mistaken if he expected Sam not to have his back once it came time to confront Ilena Vadim and her men.

He poured coffee into a mug which he set down gently on the table in front of Callen. "How're you feeling?"

Callen's eyes opened, his pupils large dark circles, eclipsing the normal vivid blue of his gaze. "I've been better," he admitted tiredly.

Sam had seen this stunned expression before at the moment when Callen realized he was standing on the beach where the Comescu family had murdered his mother. The shock had passed quickly, overtaken by the needs of the operation and the imperative to save Hetty. He wished he could be confident that his friend could find a way to control his emotions this time. He understood only too well the feeling of blind panic when a loved one was in danger. He'd felt it both times his wife had been operational even though she was a highly qualified agent.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"I don't have a choice." Callen took a couple of small sips of the coffee. "It's a lot to take in," he admitted. "I never expected to have a child and after Hetty told me about my heritage I was glad of that. This feud has gone on for over sixty years. I thought it was over when I killed Dracul. It has to end, Sam."

"We'll help you to end it."

"I know you'll come but what about Kensi and Deeks? I haven't asked them. This isn't a formal operation and I've just arrogantly assumed they'll be a part of it."

"D'you really think they'll stay behind?" Sam asked gently. "We're a team, G. They'll come."

"Callen." The screen lit up to show Eric and Nell in the Ops Center.

"What is it, Eric?" Callen sat up straighter.

"You're booked on a flight out of LAX at twenty after six this evening. It arrives in Bucharest at nine tomorrow evening. Even with a two-hour stop in Istanbul it's the quickest route we could find using a commercial airline."

"Thank you."

"Sam, you, Kensi and Deeks are on a military flight out of Andrews in two hours," Nell added. "You'll land at the U.S. military base northwest of Constanta. That'll put you less than an hour's drive from the Comescu house. Hetty pulled in all kind of favors to get this approved as a joint American and Romanian operation. The Directorate responsible for countering organized crime has promised to provide any resources you need. They'll send a liaison officer to meet you at the base."

Callen licked dry lips. "She didn't have to do that."

"You know Hetty," Nell said. "Once she gets an idea into her head there's no stopping her."

"We're still running a search on Ilena Vadim," Eric added. "We'll send any information to your phone. Hetty said to tell you she's on her way to the boat shed with your travel documents and passport."

"Thanks, guys."

"Good luck, Callen." The screen went blank.

Callen lapsed into silence sitting hunched forward and seemingly engrossed in staring at his hands. Sam moved away to give him privacy to prepare for the imminent unpleasant encounter with Kristen Donnelly. He took the opportunity to call Eric with a list of equipment to be delivered to the plane; handguns, rifles, knives, stun and smoke grenades, tactical vests and enough ammunition to start a small war. His thoughts began to churn while he reviewed everything he could remember about their last rescue mission and the Comescu family. The head of the family, her husband, sons and nephews had all been killed in a quick brutal assault on the house. What little they knew about Ilena suggested that she had grown up far away from the venal and amoral clutches of her maternal family. She would find it easy enough to hire men willing to kill for her, but did she have the cold-hearted nature that would let her give the order? He looked thoughtfully at Callen who seemed to have no doubt that she was capable of the atrocity of killing a child.

"What's it like to be a father?" Callen asked tentatively, meeting Sam's stare.

Sam walked back and took a seat while he considered his answer. "Amazing. Terrifying. All of a sudden you're responsible for someone other than yourself."

"How do you prepare for that?"

"You can't. All you can do is follow your instincts and try to do your best."

"What if that isn't good enough?"

Sam had never seen Callen displaying so much vulnerability and it scared him. "It will be. Michael's lucky to have a father who's resourceful and courageous enough to save him. You believe we're going to save him don't you?"

"Yes."

"But you don't believe you can save yourself," he stated flatly.

"I don't know." Callen stared into space. "D'you think that's why our father abandoned us? To keep us safe?"

"I can't answer that, G."

"Would you do that? Walk away from your kids if you thought that would keep them out of danger?"

"It'd never happen. No-one can protect my family better than I can. I wouldn't leave it to others." The implications of the question hit Sam like a freight train. "You're not thinking of walking out on Kristen and Michael again?"

"I've asked Hetty to make arrangements," Callen answered obliquely.

"That's not how families work, G."

A spark of life returned to Callen's pale face. "I wouldn't know how families work."

Sam gave himself a mental kick for being so insensitive. Having been bounced from home to home there was no possible way that Callen could know what it was like to have a parent willing to lay down their life for a child. Yet, that was exactly what he was prepared to do. Callen would die for Michael but didn't know how to live with his son "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that but you have a chance to find out what it's like."

Callen laughed bitterly. "With a woman who hates me and a son who doesn't know I exist? I don't think so, Sam."

"Kristen is scared and I'd bet she's also angry. It's only natural for her to look for someone to blame. That doesn't mean she hates you."

"I talked my way into her life…and into her bed. She fell in love with a ghost. Love doesn't survive what I did to her."

"What about you? Do you still love her?"

Callen's expression softened. "I think I always have." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again all normal human emotion had been banished from his face. "She'll be here soon. I don't think I can do this in front of witnesses."

"Don't worry. I'll stay close but you'll get the privacy you need."

The door to the boat shed slammed back on its hinges. Kristen stormed into the building with Kensi and Deeks hurrying along behind. Her gaze swept the room before settling on Callen and the hostility on her face was gut wrenching. She stopped, almost quivering with tension and bent the full force of her glare on her former lover.

"Where is he? If anything happens to him I will find a way to kill you."

Sam took one look at Callen's bland expression, years of subterfuge masking his true feelings, and knew that they were headed toward a train wreck.

Tbc

Caroline

March 2013


	6. Chapter 6

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Six**

Callen closed the door of the interrogation room. It was a strange feeling to be on the defensive. He had always been the one in control here; interviewing witnesses or interrogating suspects. It was his domain but for the first time he was the person carrying the guilt. Automatically he checked the camera. The red light had been extinguished. Sam had turned off the surveillance equipment as instructed.

Kristen walked as far away as she could and stood with her arms wrapped tightly around her body. It hurt to see her look so pale and unhappy and to see the effort it was taking her not to cry. It was very different from the first time he'd seen her. They'd met in a bar, introduced by her brother Jon with whom he'd been forging a friendship to get close to the other members of the gang. There had been no reason to involve her except that he was drawn to her confidence and independent spirit. They had embarked on a relationship of mutual passion and both had been taken by surprise when it deepened to something more profound. Regardless of events since he'd walked out on her, he knew that Michael had been conceived out of love and nothing could change that. It was a small beacon of light in the wasteland of his emotions.

"Why don't you sit down?" he suggested, pulling his thoughts out of the past.

"Where's Michael?" she asked harshly.

There was no easy way to break the news and it would be unfair to lie. "On his way to Romania."

"Romania?" She swayed on her feet before resting her hands on the table to steady herself. "Why? Who…?"

"Sit," Callen said more gently. He wasn't feeling much more composed than her although he was a great deal better at hiding it. He drew on his deep well of experience in subterfuge and lies, gratefully slipping into the role of a detached agent confronted by a distraught parent.

She edged round the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down heavily. "Is he alright?"

"Yes. They won't hurt him."

Tears sparkled in her eyes. "Who would do this to a child?"

"People who want to hurt me. Taking Michael is their way of getting me back to Romania."

"This is because of your job?"

He didn't dispute her assumption, settling for telling a version of the truth. She didn't need to know how personal this was on both sides of the conflict. "Two years ago we took down the senior members of a Romanian crime family in Prague and at their home on the Black Sea. Last year I killed one of the few survivors while he was in Hawaii trying to buy biological weapons."

"They want to kill you?"

"They'll try."

"Why not here? Why use Michael to get you to go to them?"

"They're Roma. This is a blood feud to them. They want to take revenge on their own soil."

"I'm coming with you," she declared with sudden passion.

"That can't happen, Kristen. You'd be a liability and it would jeopardize the operation."

"Is that all it is to you? An operation?" she asked angrily.

His mouth was dry and his heart beat erratically but none of that showed on his face or in his voice. "What else would it be?"

"You bastard! Michael's your son."

"What do you expect me to say? I've seen him twice. I don't know anything about him and, until a couple of hours ago I didn't know he was mine. It's a little hard to develop strong paternal feelings under those circumstances."

Kristen bowed her head but he'd seen the tears sparkling in her eyes. "You're right. Why should you care about us?"

It would be easy to take advantage of her vulnerability. He could tell her that he'd fallen in love with her and that nothing would ever change that feeling. He was tempted to tell her the whole sad story of his life; so tempted that he had to clamp his lips together to stop the words escaping. There was no future for them and never had been. It would be too easy to sow a seed that might one day bloom into something other than hate only to watch it wither when he had to walk away again. It was safer for her and Michael if they were kept in ignorance, far away from his poisonous legacy.

She bit her lip, using the pain to keep her tears at bay. "How will you get him back?"

"It's better if you don't know."

She accepted that quietly, instinctively knowing that he wasn't keeping her in the dark out of malice. "When…when will I know he's safe?" The alternative, learning of his death, lurked unspoken in the recesses of her mind.

"I leave tonight. With the length of the flight and the time difference there won't be any news for at least twenty-four hours. I'll make sure you're kept informed." It was cold and he saw her flinch at the impersonal nature of his response. The wall he had built around his emotions began to crumble in the face of her misery. "Kristen, I know how this sounds. Believe me when I say you need me to be hard and professional. I can't afford to let my feelings interfere."

"You don't need to explain. I know how good you are at your job," she said bitterly.

He almost reacted to the lash of her vitriol until he remembered that he had chosen this path. "I have to leave soon."

There was a soft knock on the door before Hetty walked into the room. She looked at Callen, her expression unreadable, before turning to Kristen. "Excuse the interruption, Miss Donnelly. My name is Henrietta Lange. You can call me Hetty. I am Mr. Callen's Operations Manager and I need to speak to him in private for a minute. Then, if you don't mind, I would like to keep you company until we have news of Michael's rescue."

"Thank you. I'd like to have someone with me."

"Good. Mr. Callen, you should prepare to leave. Join me outside so that I can brief you on your cover."

Callen locked eyes with Kristen, committing her face to memory and hoping that one day she would forgive him. "You have my word that Michael will come home," he said. He followed Hetty out of the room and back to the security of his team. He withstood Sam's scrutiny with hard-won acceptance. His partner could be unduly protective and that concern was exactly what he needed after his bruising conversation with Kristen.

"I've told Kensi and Deeks what's going on," Sam said.

"We're with you one hundred percent, Callen," Deeks said.

"We have your back," Kensi added.

"I know. Thank you." There were no other words to express the depth of his gratitude.

"We have a plane to catch." Sam walked over to rest his hands on Callen's shoulders. "Be careful."

"You too." Callen wished he was traveling with them even though he knew this was necessary to maintain the fiction that he was following Ilena's order to come alone.

"I have your itinerary, boarding pass and documents," Hetty told him, handing over a large envelope. "You are travelling under your own name. We have to do all we can to convince them that you are operating without Federal resources."

He pulled out the passport to check the information before looking at her quizzically. "George?"

"I think immigration would have a problem with the lack of a first name, don't you? I hope you don't mind using your grandfather's name."

"It's as good as any," he replied dismissively. Even though he knew his grandfather had been doing his job it wasn't easy to forgive him for bringing this vendetta on his family. He pulled out his badge and handed it to her. "Look after this for me."

"Of course, Mr. Callen. There will be a comlink and weapons waiting for you when you rendezvous with your team."

He shook his head. "I don't need them."

"Do you have a plan?"

"I'm working on it." He put the envelope in his go-bag which Hetty had also brought from Ops. "Look after Kristen and don't forget what I said."

"How much did you tell her?"

His intense blue gaze bored into her. "She thinks this is related to a case."

"I see. Don't worry. I will take good care of her. Good luck, Mr. Callen."

She watched him leave, wondering if he would ever forgive her for what she was about to do. She had spent years watching a suspicious and challenging boy grow into a brave and dedicated man. His fear of commitment had left him alone and, although he would fervently deny it, lonely. Someone needed to take a hand in events for his own good and she felt she owed it to his mother to help him find the family he'd never known. If she had reached the correct conclusion about Kristen Donnelly and if Callen and his son survived the Comescu family, there might yet be hope for a happy resolution.

Tbc

Caroline

March 2013


	7. Chapter 7

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Seven**

There was something soothing about the ritual of brewing a pot of tea. While the kettle boiled Hetty used a small key to open one of the many cupboards in the boat shed. The vintage Ucagco Roses tea set had been in her possession for over twenty years, forming part of a large and constantly growing collection. Surrounding herself with beautiful things helped to camouflage the often ugly nature of her profession. While carrying the tray over to the small kitchen nook she was aware of Kristen watching her. She allowed the silence to continue.

When the kettle was close to boiling Hetty poured a small amount of hot water into the tea-pot and swirled it around. Then she turned her attention to the containers of tea. She hesitated before choosing Chrysanthemum tea for its cleansing and restorative properties. Once she had added the tea to the pot she poured in the water.

"It will be ready in five minutes." She turned quickly, catching Kristen staring at her. She was pleased to note that the young woman didn't back down, displaying a reassuring strength of character. "You're trying to decide whether I can be trusted. I assure you that my only concern is for your son and my agent."

Kristen's scrutiny continued while she considered that assertion. "I believe you."

Hetty sat, feeling the weight of her years. "Tell me about Michael."

A fond smile lit up Kristen's face, temporarily chasing away her fears. "He's loving, mischievous and a real challenge. Once he makes up his mind to do something there's nothing you can do or say to change his mind."

"It must have been hard for him to lose his uncle and Tommy." Hetty kept her thoughts well hidden. Kristen was unaware that her description of her son could equally have been applied to Callen before the rigours of the foster care system forced him to change and adapt to survive.

"He didn't really know Jon. My brother was sent to prison before Michael was born and he'd only been home a few days before he was killed." Tears trickled down her cheeks. "It was worse when Tommy died. How do you explain to a five-year old that his father won't be coming home?"

Hetty took a deep breath before answering. "I don't know." She had never known if anyone had tried to explain to Callen that his mother was dead. By the time she'd tracked him down he'd already been in the orphanage for six months. She could only imagine what it had been like for him to be brought to live among strangers who didn't speak his language. He'd been separated from his sister, the one person who could have provided continuity and comfort, and had been left friendless in a new and terrifying environment. "Do you have a picture of Michael?"

Kristen opened her purse and pulled out a photograph. She looked at it longingly, rubbing her thumb over the image of her son. "This was taken at his birthday party." She leaned over and relinquished it with an air of reluctance.

Hetty couldn't stop the small gasp that rose to her lips. "He looks just like his father did at that age."

"You knew him when he was a boy?" Kristen asked in surprise.

"Yes. He was born in Romania and brought to America when he was slightly younger than Michael is now."

Kristen frowned. "He didn't tell me that. Of course he's never told me the truth about anything." She couldn't hide her bitterness.

"I think you're wrong about that." Hetty stood up and poured tea into the cups. She carried one over to Kristen. "He wasn't lying when he told you he loved you."

"How would you know?" Kristen asked angrily.

"I know Mr. Callen better than he knows himself. He would never lie about that."

"If you know him so well why don't you tell me what he's like? What kind of man uses a woman, lies to her and then disappears without a word?"

"I know how it must look."

"Do you?" Kristen asked in a voice sheathed in ice.

"Mr. Callen is a complicated man. Will you give me a chance to explain?"

"Why should I listen to you? He's had his chance to be honest with me."

"Has he?" Hetty asked shrewdly. "After your brother was killed he came to see you. He was prepared to tell you anything you wanted to know and you sent him away. Not only that, you lied to him about Michael."

Kristen stood up, her body rigid with fury. "You have no right to judge me."

"Sit down, my dear. I'm not trying to judge you but I think you have to accept that there has been deceit on both sides." She had deliberately triggered Kristen's fight or flight reflex. If the younger woman backed down she wouldn't push the matter further.

"He had no place in my son's life." Kristen was unapologetic about her decision.

"Michael is his son too and he is about to surrender to his worst enemy to save him. Despite what he told you this has nothing to do with his job. These people have been at war with his family since his grandfather's time."

Kristen sank back onto the sofa, Hetty's explanation only serving to fuel her ire. "He couldn't even tell me the truth about that?"

"Very few people know the truth. For most of his life he was also kept in the dark. I made that decision and it was the wrong one. I hope to stop him from making the same mistake. If you are willing to listen I'm going to tell you what I know."

"Why?"

"Because he deserves better and I very much hope you will help me to see that he gets it."

"He's the reason my son's been abducted. Why should I care what happens to him?"

"A fair question, although it's hardly his fault Michael was taken. Will you let me explain?"

Kristen looked at her indecisively then nodded. "Alright."

"Thank you. Let us start when he was four years old on the day he was playing on a beach on the Black Sea coast of Romania…the day he saw his mother murdered."

NCISLA

Deeks jerked awake to find his heart thumping and cold sweat prickling his skin. The aftereffects of the nightmare that had pulled him from his uneasy slumber lingered even though the details of his dream were draining from his mind like water through a sieve. For a moment he was disoriented until the rumbling of the engine vibrating through his body reminded him that he was on a transport plane en route to Romania. A quick glance confirmed that Sam and Kensi were both asleep. He checked his watch, groaning quietly when he saw they had another six hours to go.

His feeling of unease refused to evaporate. With a resigned sigh he began to analyse his concerns. The operation was problematic on many levels. That was obvious and not unusual in their line of work. Their inability to function as a cohesive unit was rare. Callen had been deliberately and callously thrown off-balance by the disappearance of his son. To an untrained observer their team leader appeared to be handling it. Deeks knew better. Callen's demeanour at the boat shed had been filled with the telltale signs of stress. Muscle tension made his gait less than fluid; there was a lack of inflection in his voice. Add to that the unaccustomed tautness around the mouth and dullness of the eyes and you had a man who was badly off his game.

Then there was Sam who would walk through fire for his partner without question or complaint. He had the advantage – or disadvantage – of being about to empathize with Callen's emotional turmoil. Would that make him less objective and more prone to error? Hetty was far away and, Deeks suspected, riddled with guilt. Since their last trip to Romania he and Kensi had heard enough to be able to put some of the pieces together. Hetty had been connected in some unspecified way to Callen's mother and her fruitless appeal to the Comescu family on behalf of her senior agent had been born out of desperation. She would sanction whatever action Callen felt was necessary to retrieve Michael.

Callen had been warned to keep his team out of the situation. If Ilena had the resources to find out about Michael it stood to reason she would also know how close-knit they were. Deeks wasn't convinced that she wouldn't have a contingency plan in case Callen disobeyed her. They could be walking into a trap which would leave their friend and colleague alone and vulnerable.

He used his elbow to nudge Kensi. "Kens," he whispered. "You awake?" He nudged her a second time with more force.

"I am now," she grumbled. "What do you want, Deeks?"

"Something about this operation smells funny."

She turned to stare at him, her eyes heavy-lidded with the remnants of sleep. "What are you talking about?"

"What if Ilena Vadim expects Callen to bring us along to help?"

"We've taken every precaution," she replied patiently. "That's why we're traveling in this bone-shaker of a plane."

"I know that." Deeks ran his hand over his mouth while he tried to find a way to articulate his feeling of trepidation. "Just humor me for a minute, okay?"

Something in his voice must have conveyed his seriousness. "Okay."

"Ilena had nothing to do with her family from when she was a young child. It was never made public who was responsible for the deaths of Alexa Comescu and the others. The Director made sure that information was buried so deeply that it would never see the light of day."

"Go on."

"Someone told her about Callen and the rest of us."

"Dracul?"

"That's a possibility. He saw all of us together and must have realized that Hunter wasn't his cousin. Tracking us to Los Angeles wouldn't have been hard. Finding out that we work for NCIS and then finding out enough about Callen's past cases to find Kristen and Michael is beyond impressive."

"She has highly placed sources," Kensi said thoughtfully.

"She does. What if she has informants in the Romanian police? Hetty made contact with their organized crime counter-intelligence unit. Who knows how many people were told about this operation. We could be compromised before we even arrive."

"Or you could just be paranoid," Kensi said, although her voice lacked conviction.

"Maybe," Deeks conceded, "but I'd rather be paranoid than dead."

"Good point. I think it's time to wake Sam."

NCISLA

Sam stepped out of the plane, his heavy bag of equipment securely in hand. He acknowledged the US soldier waiting to greet him before turning his attention to the other man standing at the bottom of the ramp.

"I'm Sam Hanna." He offered his hand, noting the firm handshake.

The man looked to be in his late thirties, just below six feet in height with short brown hair and brown eyes. He was smartly dressed in a dark suit, grey shirt and blue tie. Sam automatically priced the outfit, concluding that it was better quality than expected for a police officer.

"I am Petru Enescu," the officer said in heavily accented English. He stepped to one side to look past Sam at the plane. "I thought there were three of you."

"Change of plan," Sam replied easily. "Something urgent came up in Los Angeles and we couldn't all leave."

"A pity. Come with me. I have a car waiting."

"How much were you told?" Sam asked.

"Only that the son of an American Federal Agent has been abducted by the Comescu family. We know of them, of course. Why they would do this is a mystery I hope you can explain."

They reached Petru's car, a black BMW, and Sam loaded his bag into the trunk. "I'll tell you as much as I can."

"Good. We will talk on our journey. Have you been here before?"

Sam slid into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt. "Just once. I mean no offence to you and your country when I tell you I really hope this is the last time."

Petru started the engine. "Tell me what you know about Agent Callen and the Comescu family and then tell me what I can do to help."

Tbc

Caroline

April 2013


	8. Chapter 8

**An Eye for An Eye**

**Chapter Eight**

The first leg of the journey from Los Angeles to Istanbul was long but uneventful. Callen was grateful that Hetty had arranged for him to travel in premium economy. It gave him more space and a more comfortable seat in which to try to sleep. Sleep, however, proved elusive even using every trick he had ever learnt. He couldn't switch off his thoughts or move the lead weight which seemed to have settled in his stomach. After forcing down the unappetising airline food he ignored the soft snores coming from the man sitting next to him and concentrated on reviewing everything he knew about the beach house and surrounding area.

He would be out of direct contact with his team which meant the successful execution of the plan would depend upon precise timing. It would be his job to ensure that he and Michael were in the right place at exactly the right time while accommodating any variables and adapting accordingly. They would have to make their move soon after his arrival at the house. If they waited too long they risked Ilena killing one or both of them before rescue could arrive.

Callen had no illusions about his chances for survival. He would be unarmed and the only protection he could offer to his son was that of standing between Michael and their attackers. The odds would worsen if he was restrained so he had to make Ilena believe that she had rendered him docile. Giving in to threats went against his nature and training. The thought of submitting to her orders filled him with a cold fury which he would have to conceal when the time came. Until then he would allow that anger to fuel his actions.

The plane landed in Istanbul and those passengers lucky enough to have reached their destination disembarked. It was an eclectic mix of businessmen and vacationers. He spent a minute wondering what it must feel like to be enthusiastic about arriving somewhere new and exotic. In all his extensive travel he had never experienced that. He was either headed into danger or returning to his solitary existence in LA. He dismissed the thought as unimportant and returned to his brooding contemplation, running through all possible scenarios.

By the time he reached Bucharest he gave every impression of being tired and irritable. If anyone was watching his arrival they would report that he was not coping well with the threat to his son. Taking account of the time difference it was close to ten o'clock at night. He had less than two days before he was expected to trade his life for his son's. Did Ilena believe that he had bought into her obvious lie? A vivid picture arose in his mind of the child lying lifeless on the ground, a pool of blood staining his blond hair. It was almost enough to bring him to his knees. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving Michael in the hands of the Comescu family for even a minute longer than necessary. He would go to the beach house immediately after conferring with his team.

There were advantages to his plan. They were unlikely to expect his arrival before dawn and it was a good time for an assault on the house. Darkness would offer some camouflage for Sam and the others and should make sure that no innocent bystanders would be caught up in the attack. He worried about his son being witness to the inevitable carnage. It was a brutal way to shatter a child's innocence. Telling himself that there was no alternative was scant consolation.

He only had carry-on baggage but it still took time to go through the immigration process and collect his hire car. He waited until he was on the highway, speeding along in the dark, before placing a call to Eric.

"It's Callen. Tell me you've got something."

"Where do you want to start?" Eric asked.

Callen could tell from the quality of the sound that he was on speakerphone. The reminder that he had friends who were experts in all aspects of counter-terrorism helped to settle his nerves. "How's Kristen?" he asked. At intervals during his journey he had thought about her and had worried about how she was coping. Sitting waiting for news was harder than being operational.

"Hetty says she's doing well. Neither of them got much sleep last night. They stayed at the boat shed and last time I checked they were both pretty out of it."

"What about Sam, Kensi and Deeks?"

"They landed early evening your time. There's, um, been a change of plan though."

Chills ran over Callen's skin and he gripped the steering wheel harder. "Tell me."

"They were worried that someone working for the Romanian police might be on the Comescu's payroll. Sam met up with the officer sent as liaison. Kensi and Deeks stayed off his radar."

Callen's unease grew. "I don't like it, Eric. They need to watch out for each other. Ilena won't hesitate to kill anyone who gets in the way of her revenge."

"Sam's fine, Callen." Nell joined the conversation. "We spoke to him an hour ago. He and his contact, Petru Enescu, are at the agreed rendezvous."

"Can you send me a photograph of Enescu?"

"On its way. You're to meet up with Kensi and Deeks at the Casa Mica Guest House. I've uploaded the address and directions. As soon as you're satisfied that it's safe you can join Sam. It's just a precaution," Nell said soothingly.

"It was a bad decision." He made a conscious effort to relax his jaw muscles. "Any information on Ilena Vadim?"

"She has a house in Buenos Aires and another near Santa Cruz in the south of Argentina. She was married to a Vice President of the Central Bank. When they divorced two years ago she got custody of the two children," Eric reported.

"Children?"

"A boy and a girl," Nell said.

"How old?" There was silence at the other end of the line. "I asked how old they are."

"Callen…" Nell said, her voice wavering. "You wouldn't…?"

"I need the information to use as leverage. If she thinks there's a threat to her children she might let Michael go." He couldn't blame Nell for wondering what he was capable of doing and, truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure how far he would go to save his son.

"Five and eight."

"Where are they, Nell?"

"They're at a private boarding school in Switzerland."

Disappointment mingled with relief. If they had been with their mother he might have been forced into using them as hostages for Michael's safe return and he didn't think his conscience could cope with that possibility. "Send me everything you've got."

"It isn't much."

"Everything helps. Keep me informed of any developments." Callen ended the call and pressed harder on the gas. He knew he was being unusually paranoid but he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to go wrong.

He arrived at the guest house after midnight and in a state of suppressed anxiety. Street lights illuminated the whitewashed walls of the two storey building. After parking the car he stood silently to inspect his surroundings. The house nestled in a garden filled with mature trees and bushes. A stone wall separated it from the road, giving an illusion of privacy and tranquility. He was three blocks from the beach and half a mile from the Comescu home. The warm air held a faint tang of salt and the scent of lilac.

Through a window at the front he saw a comfortable sitting room filled with chairs, sofas, coffee tables and lamps which were still lit even at this late hour. It could have been idyllic if not for the foreboding sense of impending violence and death. He took a moment to settle into the unthreatening persona of a University professor on sabbatical. He relaxed his shoulders, retrieved his bag and opened the front door, an amiable smile on his face.

From somewhere toward the back of the house a dog began to bark. Callen heard a deep male voice telling the animal to be quiet before a door opened and the owner of the voice walked into the entrance hall.

"Mr. Reece?" the man asked. "I am Victor Dumitru. Welcome. You had a good journey?"

"Yes, thank you."

Victor was a couple of inches taller than him with grey hair and a beard. Blue eyes appraised him from behind round metal rimmed glasses. Despite the evidence of age in the man's face he exuded more strength and vitality than Callen was feeling after the bruising events of the previous twenty-four hours.

"I have a very nice room for you at the back of the house. It is quiet. Your assistant said you wanted someplace secluded. You are writing a book about our beautiful town? That is what she told me."

Callen switched to Romanian as a courtesy to his host. "That's right."

Victor smiled broadly. "Good. Good." He walked to a small desk and picked up a leather-bound book. "Please fill out the register and then I will show you to your room. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"I'm fine." Callen quickly wrote down his fictitious information and followed Victor up a steep flight of stairs. The room was at the far end of the hallway next to a door leading to a set of steps which descended to the garden. He mentally saluted the foresight of Eric or Nell in providing him with an escape route. He held out his hand for the key. "I can manage," he said.

"Of course. I will see you in the morning. Breakfast is served from seven o'clock."

"Good night." Callen waited for Victor to leave before unlocking the door. He pushed it open slowly, suddenly acutely conscious of his lack of a weapon. The room was in complete darkness. He took two steps, stopping abruptly when he felt a gun pressing against his side. He kept his breathing slow and steady. The light was switched on, momentarily blinding him before the gun was removed.

"Callen." Kensi moved quickly to give her team leader a brief hug.

"Sorry about that," Deeks said. "We had to be sure it was you."

Callen threw his bag on the bed. "Why the hell aren't you two with Sam?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing," Deeks said almost apologetically. "We weren't sure that there wouldn't be a trap waiting."

"All the more reason to stick together," Callen growled.

"Maybe not," Kensi said, her voice strained. "We tried to reach Sam but his phone went straight to voicemail and his comlink is switched off. We went to the garage and he wasn't there."

"What are you saying?" Callen asked even though the twisting in his gut told him the answer.

"We don't know where he is," Deeks said uneasily. "We think he might have been betrayed to the Comescu family."

Tbc

Caroline

April 2013


	9. Chapter 9

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Nine**

All Callen's plans crumbled to dust. He'd dragged Sam into his personal business and that decision could have sealed his partner's death warrant. It was no consolation to know that Sam would have insisted upon helping him in any event. Even if he made it home he couldn't imagine how it would feel to tell Michelle she was a widow and that her children would have to grow up without a father. The repercussions from his grandfather's actions during the War continued to reverberate and strengthened his resolve to stay solitary. He had been right to tell Hetty that he couldn't be a father to Michael. The unbearable weight of responsibility for his son, Kristen and now Sam was crushing.

He turned furiously on Kensi and Deeks, intent upon demanding an explanation for the decision to send Sam without backup. Recriminations which were on the tip of his tongue melted away when he saw the anguish of his two friends. They'd followed their training, assessed the level of threat and made a judgment call. It would be unfair and unjust to criticize them for the outcome.

His own training kicked in. Until he knew what had happened to Sam he couldn't walk into the Comescu compound. Rationally he knew the situation might not be as dire as it seemed. Stress and exhaustion had triggered his pessimism, although his gut instinct was screaming at him that something bad had happened. "How long ago did you lose contact?"

Deeks checked his watch. "Just under thirty minutes."

"What did you find when you went to the auto shop?"

"It was in the same state as last time except for a couple of sets of boot prints. It looks like he was there and then left."

"Any sign of a struggle?"

"Nothing. No sign of blood either." Deeks answered the question Callen had been too afraid to ask. "There was nothing to suggest that he'd been forcibly removed."

"Callen, we're sorry," Kensi said miserably.

"We all make decisions in the middle of an operation. There's nothing to apologize for. If you hadn't split up you might all be in the hands of the Comescus'…or dead." He pulled out his phone and dialed Ops. "Eric, we've lost contact with Sam. Is the GPS on his phone still working?"

"Yes."

"Where's the signal coming from?" He held his breath, hoping it wasn't at the beach house.

"Less than a mile from your present position. It looks like it's in the area you used before but not the same building. I've sent you the coordinates."

"Find out all you can about Petru Enescu. See if there's any connection to the Comescu business." He scrolled through the pictures on his phone until he found the one Eric had sent earlier. He studied the photograph, committing Enescu's face to memory. Until convinced otherwise he would treat the Romanian police officer as an enemy.

"We will. Callen, I hope Sam's okay."

"I'll update you as soon as we know anything more," Callen said, projecting a confidence he didn't feel.

"What do you want to do?" Kensi asked.

"Find Sam. If he has been taken they must know I'll track him using his phone. If they didn't want me to find him they'd have turned off the signal. I'm walking into a trap but there's no way to avoid it. You two are my backup. Remember that they don't know you're here. Let's keep it that way. Do you have a spare ear wig? And a gun?"

Kensi opened the large bag lying beside her feet. She handed Callen his SIG and he ejected the clip to make sure it was fully loaded. A spare clip went into the pocket of his jacket.

He felt calm and focussed on the mission. They would find Sam, lay their plans and then it would be show time. Direct action against his enemies was exactly what he needed to satisfy the aggression which had been building since being told of Michael's abduction. The brutally primitive side to his nature wanted blood.

Once the ear wig was in place he was ready. "Hang back and wait for my signal. Don't take chances. Kill anyone who gets in your way. Good luck."

Callen left first, driving the short distance to the location pinpointed by Sam's GPS. It was an old warehouse. Dark marks on the brick walls and the lack of a roof showed that it had been damaged by fire before being abandoned. The concrete outside was cracked, uneven and littered with weeds. With only the moonlight to guide him he couldn't make out many details. He walked slowly around the building, alert for any suspicious sounds. Although the windows were boarded up he saw a sliver of light leaking through a gap in the wood and knew he was in the right place.

"I'm here," he informed Kensi and Deeks. "I'm going in through the back. Take up position at the front of the building."

"Understood," Deeks responded.

He left the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. Whoever was waiting for him wouldn't expect him to be armed. Taking Sam out of the picture should have left him alone and vulnerable. He glanced at the sky. The night was passing and he was no closer to rescuing his son. He took a minute to compose himself before walking toward the building.

The lock had been shattered and the door swung open as soon as he touched it. His footsteps were loud on the concrete, reverberating off the brick walls. He made no effort to hide his presence. They would know he was coming. There was another door at the end of a short hallway. It was open far enough to allow some light to spill out and push back the shadows. He could hear the low hum of a generator which explained the presence of power in an otherwise ruined building. A rat darted across his path causing his heart rate to accelerate in momentary surprise.

He entered a large room and immediately looked around. Two heavily armed men flanked him on either side. He noted their positions before dismissing them from his mind. Whatever else might happen he was in no danger of being shot. A third man stood in front of him; a man he recognized from his meeting with Ilena in the park. His breathing hitched when the man moved to give him a clear view of two unmoving bodies.

Callen walked steadily forward his gaze fixed on Sam. His instincts screamed at him to run over to his partner but he held ruthlessly on to his self-control. It was impossible to tell if Sam was still alive. The other man, Petru Enescu, was clearly dead, with a bullet hole in his forehead. He felt a twinge of regret for doubting the Romanian police officer.

"That's far enough," Ilena's bodyguard said.

Callen stopped. "Is he alive?"

"You are not very good at following orders."

"I asked you a question," Callen snapped back in reply.

"For the moment."

He began to breathe easier. "How much is she paying you," Callen asked. "Or are you some minor member of the family?"

The man gave him a cold smile. "Who I am is irrelevant. What matters is that you will learn that there are consequences to your disobedience." He drew his pistol and pointed it at Sam's head.

"No!" Callen yelled, reaching for his weapon. His move was halted when the two guards grabbed his arms. He strained uselessly against their hands. "No! Leave him alone."

"Too late, Agent Callen."

Gunshots echoed around the room. Callen, frantic with worry, thought at first that Sam had been the target. Within a couple of heartbeats he realized that he was no longer restrained. The men had fallen to bullets fired by Kensi and Deeks. There was no time to think. He drew his gun and fired at the man threatening Sam. The attack had been completely unexpected. His target dropped to the floor without having time to register surprise.

Callen hurtled toward Sam and fell to his knees. Sam lay face down and unmoving. He gently turned his partner over, exposing a deep head wound. He felt for a pulse with shaking fingers. With tears gathering in his eyes he looked up to meet the concerned stares of his team members. Emotion clogged his throat rendering him speechless. He sat back on his heels and bowed his head.

Tbc

Caroline

April 2013


	10. Chapter 10

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Ten**

For one heart-stopping moment Deeks thought they had arrived too late. He walked closer and touched Callen's shoulder. "Is he…?" He cleared his throat before trying again. "Is he alive?"

"Yes," Callen replied, his voice rough with emotion.

"I'll find something to clean his head wound," Kensi offered. "There's water and a medical kit in the car."

Callen stood up, his eyes never leaving his partner's face. "He needs a doctor. You and Kensi take him and then get the hell out of here."

"What?" The unexpected command caught Deeks unprepared. "You think we're going to leave you? Are you out of your mind?"

An unnatural stillness betrayed Callen's tension. "I shouldn't have asked you to come. This is my fight. I'll finish it alone."

"Without us neither you nor Michael will make it home," Deeks stated bluntly. "Going in without backup isn't an option."

"I'll find a way. This isn't open for debate."

A faint groan signalled that Sam was fighting his way back to consciousness. Deeks bent down and satisfied himself that there was a strong pulse. "He's got a hard head," he commented. "Just like his partner."

"I've given you an order," Callen stated emphatically.

"Really? That's kinda hard since we're not here officially. How do you think you can keep us out of this? Once you're inside the Comescu compound there's no way you can stop us attempting a rescue."

Callen stepped inside Deeks' personal space radiating a level of anger that he seldom displayed. His hands were tightly clenched fists and his mouth was set in a hard line. His entire demeanor was aggressive and designed to intimidate. Although Deeks felt a flutter of anxiety he refused to back down.

"Sam's probably got a concussion. If he doesn't rest he could do permanent damage." Callen's rapid breathing exposed his anxiety. His efforts to bring his emotions under control were painful to watch. "I'm asking you…please take care of him."

"Why don't we wait until he wakes up and see what he has to say?"

"I've waited long enough." Callen turned away.

Deeks reached out and grabbed Callen's arm. "You're not leaving."

"I'd like to see you try to stop me."

"What's going on?" Kensi walked in carrying two bottles of water and a small bag. She knelt beside Sam, pulling out a sterile wipe to clean away the blood.

"Our fearless leader thinks he can take on the entire Comescu clan by himself," Deeks said snidely.

"That's not going to happen." Kensi discarded the blood-soaked material before gently probing the wound. "He's going to have a spectacular headache when he wakes up." She looked up at Callen. "And he will be seriously pissed with us if we let you go alone. Do you really think he won't come for you and Michael? Making a plan and working together increases the odds of survival."

"She's right." Deeks didn't relax his grip although he saw a slight lessening in Callen's rigidity. "We didn't come all this way to hide in a corner until the fight's over."

Sam's eyes fluttered open although his gaze was unfocused. "What hit me?" he whispered hoarsely.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Kensi said gently. "Do you think you can sit up?"

"Yes," Sam said without any conviction or attempt to move. His brow furrowed. "We were led into a trap. Where's Petru?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. He was dead when we got here." Kensi eased her arm under his shoulders, ready to support him.

"Damn. He was a good man."

"I'm sorry we doubted him. Callen, can you give me a hand?"

Deeks retreated a few feet when Callen nodded and bent down to add his strength to Kensi's. Now that Sam was awake he didn't think Callen would simply walk away. With excruciating slowness they eased Sam into a sitting position. The big man looked like he was about to hurl. Kensi handed over a bottle of water.

After taking a few sips Sam eyed his partner critically. "You're very quiet and you have that look."

"What look?" Callen asked defensively.

"The one you get before you say or do something that I'm not going to like."

"You're imagining things," Callen replied, evading the implied question. "Do you remember what happened?"

Sam lifted a hand to the cut on his head. "We were at the auto shop when Petru got a phone call from one of his colleagues. He said that Michael had been seen with a couple of men and that we had a shot at rescuing him."

"You believed him?" Callen asked.

"Not entirely but we couldn't ignore it."

"Why didn't you call Kensi and Deeks for back-up?"

"I didn't want to compromise them unnecessarily. We were ambushed and the rest is a blur." He looked around at the bodies. "I guess you took care of them. That's not going to sit well with Ilena."

"I'll worry about her. Kensi and Deeks'll see that you get to a hospital."

"See? I knew you were going to say something really stupid." Sam pushed himself up to confront his partner, swaying slightly until he caught his balance. "You don't get it, do you?"

"You're hurt."

"What do you think happens when a soldier's on patrol in hostile territory and he gets wounded?" Sam glared ferociously. "He keeps going because the alternative is to lie down and give up."

"This isn't the jungle, or the middle of the desert. They have a nice clean hospital with doctors and nurses ready to take care of you."

"I'm not in the mood to listen to your smart mouth, G. This is a war zone and I'm not letting you walk out of here until you see sense and we come up with a plan."

"He's right, Callen," Deeks stated. "Like it or not we're a team and the sooner you accept that the better."

NCISLA

With a feeling of helpless frustration Callen called Ops. All his arguments had been met with a level of determined resistance which finally convinced him that he wasn't going to prevail.

"Mr. Callen?" Hetty sounded tired. "Did you find your partner?"

"Yes. They hit him over the head, which given his lack of brains, didn't do too much harm."

"Am I to understand that you and Mr. Hanna have had a disagreement?"

"You could say that. How's Kristen?" He carried two distinct pictures in his mind. One was of the joy on her face when they had been together. The other, which he saw with painful clarity, was the mixture of sorrow and anger when she confronted him about Michael's abduction.

"She has surprising strength of character. She's sick with worry about her son, yet she holds on to her composure. You chose well."

There was a cramping in his gut. "She was a means to an end. Nothing more."

"I find that very hard to believe. She is also concerned about you."

He couldn't let himself believe that. "Have you spoken with her about going in to protective custody?"

"We have had several interesting conversations. Nothing has been resolved yet."

There was something in Hetty's voice that triggered a deep suspicion. "Don't meddle, Hetty," he warned.

"What a strange thing to say. When have I ever meddled in your life?"

Callen almost growled in frustration. "Since I was five years old," he snapped. "I'm quite old enough to make my own decisions."

"Yes, you are, Mr. Callen."

He knew her well enough to recognize that she was patronizing him. He didn't like it and couldn't do a damn thing about it. "I'm at the beach house. If you don't hear from any of us in an hour you can assume the worst."

There was a deep sigh. "Be very careful."

He ended the call, thrusting the phone into his jacket pocket. The sky was a pale blue with the sun creeping over the horizon. He stood on the sidewalk, separated from the beach by a low wall. The house lay to his right, secreted behind mature trees and bushes. It was a peaceful scene giving no hint of the horror which lurked only a few feet away. The waves lapped the shore while he watched a lone jogger enjoying the early morning tranquility.

Callen stepped down onto the sand, turning toward the wrought iron gate that would allow him access to the beach house. It opened soundlessly and he let it close behind him. Now that he was inside the grounds he could see the stairs leading to a wooden deck. Through the sliding glass door was the large dining room. He took a leisurely look around, paying particular attention to the upper floor. Was Michael in one of those rooms? He couldn't see anyone watching through the windows. Now that he was so close he was filled with a strange reluctance to move. The thought of seeing his son again left him elated and terrified all at the same time.

He began to walk. Before he reached the bottom of the stairs two men emerged from the house to stand on the deck. Both carried semi-automatic rifles. Neither spoke, just watched him climb the stairs. Slowly and carefully Callen drew his gun and handed it over. He was searched and his phone confiscated before the men stood aside to let him enter the house.

Ilena sat at the head of the table. She was alone and the shadows under her eyes showed her exhaustion. A fierce smile crept over her face. "Sit down."

"Where's Michael?"

"You can see him in a minute. Tell me first what has happened to Cezar."

Callen pulled out a chair. "Your bodyguard? I killed him. I hope he didn't mean anything to you."

The smile faded. "You will regret your actions before you die."

"What did you expect? He murdered my partner."

"So, you have Agent Hanna's death on your conscience. I would be lying if I told you I was sorry."

"Don't worry. I won't be sorry when I put you out of your misery."

"So optimistic." She stood up. "It is time to reunite you with your son. I have told him about you, although he didn't believe me."

"You said you would let him go."

"I lied."

Callen kept his anger in check. "How would you feel if I held your children? Vasile must be nearly eight now and Adriana…remind me, is she five or six?"

"What do you know of my children?" she demanded, a thread of fear in her voice.

"I know everything, including what will happen to them if you hurt Michael." He captured her brilliant green stare and held it arrogantly.

"You will not harm them. It isn't in your nature."

"You have no idea what I am capable of doing and you underestimate the long reach and determination of my friends."

"Perhaps, but they are well protected and, in a very short time, they will be safely out of reach."

Callen cursed silently. "All you have to do is release the boy and they will have nothing to fear. Let the blood feud end with us."

"Too many of my family died when you and your friends came here with murder in your hearts. Come, your son is waiting for you."

Callen followed her out of the dining room, aware that he was being shadowed by the two guards. He couldn't make a move until he was sure that he was in a position to protect Michael. She led him to the stairway close to the kitchen. Another armed guard stood outside a bedroom door. Callen drew in a shuddering breath and prepared to meet his son.

Tbc

Caroline

May, 2013


	11. Chapter 11

This is the chapter where Callen finally meets his son. It was an emotional chapter to write and I hope that it doesn't disappoint anyone. It's been a long time since my sons were the age Michael is now and I am struggling to remember how a child of that age behaves.

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Eleven**

It was a small room, sparsely furnished with a single bed, nightstand and dresser. Thin drapes filtered the early morning light, making it hard to make out any details. Callen stepped over the threshold, his attention fixed on the small unmoving body lying on top of the bed covers. He hadn't known what to expect and the rush of love that swept through him caught him completely unprepared.

"Michael." Ilena's voice came from behind him, loud and harsh. "Wake up."

Callen moved closer. Disordered blond hair framed a delicate face dusted with freckles. The boy stirred sluggishly. He turned on Ilena with a furious snarl. "What have you done to him?"

"Just a mild sedative to keep him compliant. He was becoming hysterical."

"You bitch!" He took a step toward her then froze when one of her bodyguards raised his gun. In this confined space there would be no hope of dodging a bullet. He imagined Hetty's voice in his head telling him to stand down, good advice that she had given him on more than one occasion. He raised his hands to signal that he wasn't a threat. The crackling tension in the air lessened.

Moving slowly backwards he reached the bed. He shook Michael gently. "Hey, buddy; it's time to get up." Sleepy blue eyes gradually focussed on his face and he gave what he hoped was a reassuring grin. "Your Mom sent me to get you."

Curiosity gave way to cautious excitement. "You know my Mom?" Michael sat up and leant his back against the headboard. His eyelids drooped, evidence that the sedative hadn't yet completely left his system.

"I knew her a long time ago, before you were born. She misses you."

"Why didn't she come?"

"She wanted to."

Michael nodded, accepting that statement. He looked over at Ilena and the sparkle went out of his eyes. "She's a mean lady," he confided to Callen. "She wouldn't let me play on the beach."

"You'll have plenty of time to play when you get home."

"Why haven't I seen you before?" Michael dismissed Ilena from his mind when his thoughts strayed down a different path.

"You have seen me but you were very young and probably don't remember."

"Was that before my daddy went away? Mommy says he went to heaven." Tears formed in the boy's eyes. "I wish he hadn't gone there. Why couldn't he stay with us?"

Callen licked his lips while he searched for an answer. Hearing his son claim another man as his father was like taking a knife to the gut. "Sometimes bad things happen and people have to leave."

Ilena came further into the room. "Don't you remember what I told you, Michael? Tommy wasn't your real father."

"Leave it!" Callen said harshly.

She threw him a malicious smile. "This is your father. He came a long way to see you."

Michael's bottom lip began to quiver. "You're lying."

"Tell him," she ordered. "Tell him or you won't enjoy the consequences."

Callen turned to confront her. "You've already made it clear that we're not going to leave here alive. Why should I upset him more than he already is?"

"How do you think he'll enjoy watching you being shot in the leg?" She brushed her hand down his arm. "Or perhaps a bullet to the shoulder. Nothing fatal. Not yet. Of course there'll be a lot of blood."

"Alright!" His nerves were stretched to breaking point. "Can I have a few minutes alone with him?"

"You'll tell him the truth?"

"Yes."

She nodded slowly. "There's nothing here you can use as a weapon. The door will be locked and there will be a guard in the hallway. You have five minutes."

The door slammed behind her and he heard the key turn in the lock. Michael had pulled his knees up to his chest and had his arms wrapped around his legs. He looked small, frightened and very vulnerable. Callen perched on the edge of the bed, far enough away to stop his son feeling penned in. He suppressed the urge to embrace the child, to hold him close and offer a comfort that he had no right to give.

"She's right about one thing. Your Mommy and I made you but it was Tommy who was always there to look after you both and that makes him more of a father than I could ever be."

There was silence while Michael tried to sort through Callen's words. Finally he looked up, a frown creasing his forehead. "Didn't you want me?" he asked.

Memories assailed Callen. How often had he asked that question as a child? Every time he was kicked out of another foster home he'd begged for an explanation, promising anything if someone would just love him for a little while. Once he'd entered his teens he'd pressed for answers about his parents, never quite believing the story that they were dead. Other children, in their cruelty, had taunted him about being abandoned because he was worthless. That had led to fights where he always seemed to shoulder the blame. Hetty had told him that he was a challenging child. Was it any wonder? Gradually he'd learnt how to inure himself to the hurt, erecting barriers that had remained firmly in place for most of his life.

"Of course I wanted you."

"Why didn't you stay?" Michael pressed hesitantly.

"I had to leave because of my job." That, at least, was true although he would have moved heaven and earth to get back to Kristen if he'd known she was pregnant. He moved a little closer and lowered his voice. "You mustn't tell anyone but I'm a spy and I had to leave you and your Mommy to keep you safe."

Michael tilted his head to one side and gazed at him quizzically. "Do you have a gun?"

"No, Michael, I don't."

"Will you come and live with us now?"

"I wish I could."

The door opened again. Callen stood up and held out a hand. Michael slid off the bed and took hold of it with a breathtaking level of trust. This was the first time he had touched his son and he felt like an electrical charge had energized every molecule in his body. They walked into the hallway and he glanced surreptitiously at his watch. They had thirty-nine minutes before his team stormed the house.

Ilena was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with three armed guards. "Get the cars," she instructed.

Callen's footsteps faltered and the man behind shoved him to get him moving again. Two of the men left and Ilena pulled Michael away from him. "Where are we going?" he asked. The one possibility they hadn't considered was that they would be taken someplace else.

Michael began to cry and Ilena shook him. "Stop snivelling."

A gun barrel pressed against his spine kept Callen from moving. "You're scaring him."

Ilena sneered at him. "He's got good reason to be scared. Take a good look at him and see what you've done. It was your family that started this feud."

"I know that now and I'm ready to pay the price but he's a child."

"Children grow up," she said dismissively. "It's time to go."

Callen and Michael were herded to the front door. Ilena kept the boy close, using him as leverage to control her more dangerous prisoner. Two Escalades were parked on the street and Callen had a sinking feeling that he knew where they were going. He glanced around, hoping that Sam was close by and in a position to follow them.

When Ilena tried to take Michael away Callen's heart slammed painful against his ribs. "The boy stays with me," he growled.

"You're in no position to make demands."

"I know. I was hoping you might have some maternal feelings. What harm can it do? I'd like to spend my last few minutes with my son."

She gave a sharp nod and Callen shepherded the boy into the back seat of the first vehicle. He put his arm around Michael's shoulders and held him close. Michael tearfully snuggled against him. Their journey took no more than five minutes traveling along the coast road. When Callen stepped out of the vehicle he knew he was at the stretch of beach where his mother had been murdered. Ilena walked over to join him.

"Appropriate, don't you think? You should have died here that day."

The beach was deserted and there were only a few other cars on the road. The tide was ebbing away from the shore accompanied by a strengthening wind. "Whoever gave the order chose to leave me and my sister alive. It takes someone with a hard heart to kill a child. When it comes to it do you think any of your men will pull the trigger? Will you?"

They stepped off the sidewalk and began to walk toward the water. Michael continued to cling to Callen's hand. "He's just a terrified little boy who doesn't understand. He doesn't even carry my name. Think how you would feel if this was your son…if this was Vasile!" He stopped and turned quickly to face her. "Look at him. What has he done to deserve death?"

Ilena swallowed and looked away. "You killed my family."

"You know what they were. They weren't innocent. How many lives did they ruin? You chose not to return to them because of that. I never had a family. Until today I didn't understand the need to seek revenge. When I came here two years ago I knew nothing about my heritage. I didn't know your family were responsible for killing my mother. Let Michael and your children grow up in ignorance too. Kill me and let this end."

When she raised her eyes to meet his he saw that her expression had softened. "Yes. Let this be an end. I will return the boy to his mother but never doubt that we will put him down like a rabid dog if he shows any sign of following in your footsteps."

"Thank you." Callen dropped to his knees before resting his hands gently on Michael's shoulders. The boy was trembling like the branches of a young tree in a windstorm. Blue eyes set in a pale face were wide and darting from side to side. Instinctively the child recognized that there was danger even if he didn't fully understand its source.

"Michael, look at me," Callen instructed gently. "It's going to be okay. I promise." He was terrified that his son would bolt and provoke a deadly reaction. "You have to be brave for just a little while longer."

With a hiccupping sob Michael locked his stare on Callen's face. "I don't like it here. I want Mommy." His voice rose in volume in reaction to his fear.

"I don't like it here either," Callen confessed. He wiped away a tear that was trickling down Michael's cheek. The skin was soft as a peach and the intimate contact was almost enough to shatter his self-control. "No-one here is going to hurt you. Do you believe me?"

Seconds ticked away while Michael searched for the reassurance he desperately wanted to find. "Yes," he whispered. "Will you take me home now?"

Callen pulled his son into a tight hug, taking solace from the feel of Michael's body pressed trustingly against him. "I can't come with you right now." He lowered his voice. "I have friends who'll look after you. You'll like them. Sam used to be a soldier. He's big and strong and he'll protect you. You do what he tells you. Promise me, Michael." He could feel tears soaking through his shirt. "I love you, Son." It felt good to say those words even if they were his way of saying good-bye. He loosened his grip and stood up. Michael continued to cling to him.

He looked over to Ilena. "Don't make him watch," he begged.

"I've agreed to let him live. That's as far as my mercy goes." Her voice was no steadier than his. Now that the moment had arrived there was no sense of triumph.

Callen bowed his head, accepting the inevitable. "You have to go and stand over there." He gently pried Michael's hands loose and pointed to a rock pool which was out of the line of fire. "When you get there close your eyes."

"No!" Michael reached for him again.

Stepping back, Callen threw Ilena an agonized glance. She walked over and took hold of Michael's hand. "Come with me."

At first Callen thought his son would resist but then the fight drained out of the boy and he meekly followed Ilena, stopping every couple of steps to look back over his shoulder. Tears filled Callen's eyes forcing him to turn away to spare Michael the sight of his father's grief. His executioner was ready, a silenced Smith & Wesson held unobtrusively at his side. With the sound of his son's sobs ringing in his ears, Callen raised his head to stare steadily at the man who would end his life.

Tbc

Caroline

June 2013


	12. Chapter 12

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Twelve**

The sand above the tide line was soft, making his footing unstable. Callen shifted his weight to accommodate it, not ready to go easily to his death. If there was a chance of escaping without putting Michael in peril he would take it.

He chose to believe that his mother hadn't had time for fear or regret before death claimed her under a clear blue sky. His emotions, by contrast, were turbulent. It had been a long time since he'd feared dying although he'd never sought it even in his darkest moments. He took sensible precautions and accepted it as an occupational hazard. His primary feeling was one of anger that the circumstances of his life had deprived him of the pleasure of watching his son growing up.

Now that he had met Michael again, if only for a few fleeting moments, he recognized how hard it would have been to walk away. His son was a gift that he couldn't refuse. His anger was intermingled with regret that Michael had to witness his murder. How much damage would that cause to the boy's impressionable mind? He would have to trust Kristen to help overcome the inevitable trauma. If fate was kind the boy would block out the memory the way he had done as a young child. It was only as an adult that he'd remembered. One minute his mother had been happy and laughing; the next she had been slumped in the chair lifeless and still.

"Turn round and get down on your knees."

The order came from the assassin facing him and wasn't entirely unexpected. This was an execution and a bullet to the back of the head signalled that loud and clear.

"No. If you're gonna shoot me you can look me in the eye."

In the bemused silence that followed his defiance he scanned his surroundings. Ilena and Michael were slightly behind and off to one side out of his line of sight. Two armed Comescu thugs had their backs to him, facing the road. There was no sign of his team, which didn't mean they weren't there.

He saw a man jogging along the sidewalk who slowed to look curiously at the disparate group on the sand. When Michael began to wail the man pulled out his cell phone, looking panicked. Callen swore, anticipating what would come next. The two guards began to shout before moving forward with their guns raised. Several shots were fired before the man dropped to the ground, out of sight behind the sea wall. Michael's hysteria increased. The situation was rapidly getting out of hand and Callen knew that he only had seconds left.

He had no time for further thought before he heard two muffled shots. The sound was so distant that he knew they had come from a sniper rifle. The bullets accurately felled the two guards and blood misted the air. In the momentary confusion Callen bend down, scooped up a handful of sand and flung it into the face of the remaining gunman. He was moving before the man could do more than raise a hand to his face to scrabble at his eyes in a futile effort to clear the sudden blindness.

Callen punched him in the throat and wrestled the gun away. He pressed the muzzle of the silencer to the man's chest and fired twice. It didn't cross his mind to do anything other than permanently neutralize his opponent. He caught a glimpse of Sam and Deeks running along the beach toward him which meant that it had been Kensi wielding the rifle. Thanking his team would have to wait because he still had to deal with Ilena. He spun to face her. There has been no sign that she was carrying a gun and he was relieved to see her doing nothing more than backing away with Michael held in front of her like a shield.

He prowled toward her, the stolen gun raised to point steadily at her head. Michael had become very quiet, his expression a mixture of terror and shock. Seeing his son watching him fearfully caused Callen's gut to tighten.

"Give it up, Ilena," he said. "I don't want to shoot you and we both know I won't miss from this range."

"The police'll be here in a minute," Sam said from behind him, his breathing unsteady.

Ilena continued to edge backwards. "I won't go to jail."

"It beats the alternative. Let the boy go." Callen was no more than ten feet away when she sobbed once and pushed Michael toward him. She sank down onto the sand and covered her face with her hands.

Callen was content to leave her to Deeks to deal with. The sudden movement had caused Michael to stumble. When Callen reached out to steady him, the boy flinched away from him.

"He's just seen you kill someone, G," Sam offered gently. "Handle him carefully."

A cold dose of reality slammed into him. The violence of the rescue had done more damage to Michael than anything that had gone before. All that his son would see was that he had been taken from one set of strangers and put in the care of others who were equally frightening. The momentary connection between father and son had been shattered before it had really begun. He cast a tormented glance at his partner and found that he was confronted with another problem. Sam looked dreadful. The deep gash to his head was bleeding again and there was a grey tinge to his skin. "You look like hell."

"I'm fine." Sam lowered himself inelegantly to the ground. "It looks like Deeks has Ilena under control. You have another priority."

Callen nodded before turning slowly back toward his son. Michael huddled on the sand, nervously combing through the fine grains with one hand. With his head bent and strands of blond hair shadowing his eyes it was hard to read his expression. He edged closer to the boy and crouched down.

"Are you alright?"

Michael looked up, his face tear-stained and his eyes moist. "You said you didn't have a gun," he whispered. "You shot that man. Is he…is he dead?"

The tight knot in Callen's chest was painful. "Yes." There wasn't any way to justify his actions to a child and he didn't try. He wasn't even sure he could justify them to himself. He had taken the advantage and could have used less than lethal force. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Michael. I would never do anything to hurt you."

There was no comprehension on his son's face and no lessening of the abject fear. Callen could recognize the truth whether he liked it or not. Their relationship couldn't work. Any time Michael looked at him the boy would only see the face of a killer. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes. "Would you like to speak to your Mom?" he asked.

A tentative smile momentarily chased away the dark clouds. "Can I?"

Callen stood up and held out his hand. Michael cringed and Callen let his arm fall back to his side. Michael scrambled to his feet and looked shyly at Sam. "Is that your friend?"

"Yes, that's Sam." Years of training allowed him to keep his voice steady and his emotions hidden. "After we've called your Mom we need to take him to a hospital. He hurt his head."

"When can I go home?"

"Soon." Callen walked over to Sam. "Can I borrow your phone? They took mine." He could tell from his partner's expression that Sam was feeling dizzy and sick and that compounded his guilt. Too much damage had been done because of an ancient feud which refused to die.

He moved a few feet away. Police cars and ambulances were arriving accompanied by a small crowd of curious spectators. He saw Kensi in the distance dealing with the authorities and Deeks walking toward his partner with Ilena stumbling along beside him. Despite the circumstances he felt a degree of sympathy for her. She had been caught up in this vendetta just as he had. Unlike him, though, she hadn't become hardened to violence and death. She was a victim of her heritage which would deprive her of her liberty and, more importantly, of her children.

He dialed the boatshed. The call was answered immediately. "Hetty. It's Callen. Everyone's okay and we have Ilena in custody. Is Kristen there?"

"She is."

There was a brief pause before he heard Kristen's voice. "Callen?"

He beckoned to Michael and held out the phone.

"Mommy? When can I come home?" Michael's eager smile disappeared and he frowned. "Don't cry, Mommy." He listened for a minute. "Love you, too." He handed the phone back before edging away from Callen. He looked lost and dazed. The light that had infused his face while talking to his mother had disappeared.

"Hello." Callen wasn't sure what to expect from Kristen.

"Thank you for saving Michael," she said tremulously. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Sam's a bit banged up. The rest of us are fine." His voice sounded strained and emotionless. He could feel that he was retreating back behind the walls that had protected him as a child.

"What about the woman who took him?"

"She's in police custody. I'll bring Michael home as soon as I can. I'm sorry this happened, Kristen."

"I know. We can talk about it when you get back."

He thought he detected a new warmth and empathy before chiding himself for imagining something that wasn't there. Kristen was happy and relieved to know that Michael was safe and would feel gratitude toward those who rescued him. That would fade when she had time to reflect upon the reason for her son's kidnapping.

"There's nothing to talk about. You have an amazing son and I'm happy that I got to meet him. The last thing either of you need is to get mixed up in my life."

"We'll talk when you get home," she repeated firmly. "Now, Hetty wants to speak to you."

He almost begged her to stay on the line. Listening to her voice still evoked happy memories even if their relationship had ended with his silent betrayal. He looked down at his son, who still stood within touching distance and yet the chasm between them continued to widen.

"Mr. Callen. Congratulations on a successful mission. I have briefed the local police chief so you won't have any problems. Does anyone need medical attention?"

"Sam's head injury needs checked out. He doesn't look so good."

"Call me later with an update. I'll make arrangements to get you all home. I've put in a call to Arkady. He owes us a favor and I believe he owns an executive charter service that operates out of Prague."

"Thank you, Hetty." Callen mustered a smile for Kensi and Deeks who were walking over to join them. "I'll be in touch." He could understand their stunned looks. This was the first time they'd seen Michael. It was one thing to know about the relationship and another to see it for themselves.

"Wow, Callen, he looks just like you," Kensi said. She grinned self-consciously at the boy.

"Michael, I want you to meet my friends, Kensi and Deeks. They'll look after you for a while."

"What? No. You know kids don't like me," Kensi said.

"Don't exaggerate," Deeks said. "Besides, he looks harmless. I doubt if he's going to bite."

Michael raised soulful blue eyes to Callen. "Where are you going?"

"I won't be far away. Sam needs to see a doctor, remember? I'll be right back as soon as I've arranged that."

"Hey, Michael," Deeks said, hunkering down. "How about we build sand castles while we wait? We can show Kens how it's done."

Michael chewed his bottom lips indecisively before nodding. "Okay."

Kensi trailed along behind Deeks and Michael looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"How's he doing?" Sam asked as soon as Callen reached him.

"He's handling it pretty well." Callen waved to attract the attention of an EMT.

"How about you?"

"I'm handling it pretty well, too."

"Like hell you are. I saw the look on your face. Michael needs a father and you're going to turn your back on him even though it'll rip out your heart."

"Yes, I am," he responded tiredly. "He's afraid of me. What other choice do I have?"

Tbc

Caroline

June 2013


	13. Chapter 13

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Thirteen**

When Sam opened his eyes there was a moment of confusion. The smell of disinfectant and the narrowness of the bed quickly reminded him that he was in hospital. He vaguely recalled the ambulance journey from the beach with Callen sitting rigidly in the seat beside the gurney. His partner's face had been ashen from exhaustion and stress.

A head CT confirmed no serious damage. By that time Callen's normal sarcastic nature had resurfaced with the comment that the scan, surprisingly, showed that Sam did have a brain. The next acerbic observation was that it was a pity he hadn't used it before risking his health to take part in a dangerous rescue mission. Sam had been too sore and tired to argue. With Callen in that mood it would have been a waste of breath.

After the doctor cleaned and stitched the deep gash on his head he was admitted for observation. He remembered very little after that, concluding that he must have fallen asleep almost immediately. A quick glance at his watch showed that more than three hours had passed since then. The local anaesthetic used to numb his skin had worn off leaving a dull ache and the feeling that he was pulling on the stitches every time his expression changed. Thankfully the severe headache had abated as had the nausea and dizziness. He had no wish to spend the night in hospital and decided that he would persuade the doctor to discharge him by evening.

Having taken inventory of his injuries he turned his attention to the room and wasn't happy to see Callen sitting by the window reading a newspaper. "Where's Michael?" he asked sharply.

The paper rustled when Callen folded it. "Kensi and Deeks took him for pizza and ice cream. How do you feel?"

"Why didn't you take him?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Sam sat up carefully and glared at his partner. "I don't need a babysitter but Michael does."

"He's got two," Callen responded blandly. Whatever emotions he might be feeling were carefully hidden.

"He should be with his father," Sam pressed, wishing that he felt strong enough to shake some sense into his infuriating friend.

"There's no point him getting attached to me. Once we get home he'll never see me again."

"I thought your rationale for abandoning him was that he's afraid of you. That won't change if you don't spend time with him."

Callen stood up, his eye's narrowed. "I'm not abandoning him."

"What else would you call it?" Sam challenged. "You're ignoring him because **you** don't want to risk getting too attached."

"Leave it alone, Sam. I know what I'm doing."

"You've done some really dumb things in your life, G and this is right at the top of the list."

"I'm done listening to you."

"Good. Go and find your son."

The impasse was broken by a knock on the door. Deeks peered in. "Is it safe to come in?" he asked. "We could hear you yelling from out in the hallway."

"I thought you were looking after Michael," Callen said curtly.

"We are. You won't believe how much he eats. He's almost as fond of junk food as you are."

Callen folded his arms and stared icily at his colleague. "Take him back to the guest house and keep him occupied."

"Sorry, Callen, but Kensi and I reckon we've done enough. Michael keeps asking for you and, the way we see it, he's your responsibility. He's a good kid but he's scared and you're his family."

Callen's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to do with him. I've never had much to do with children."

"Take him shopping," Deeks suggested. "He could use some new clothes. He's still wearing the same thing he had on when Ilena snatched him."

"I don't…"

"Stop fighting it, G. If you're intent upon staying out of his life this could be the only time you get to spend with him."

"It's a bad idea." The certainty had disappeared from Callen's voice.

"Try it."

Callen licked his lips nervously. "Alright."

Deeks hung back when Callen left the room and grinned at Sam. "We make a good team."

Sam grimaced. "Just make sure he doesn't change his mind. He's convinced that he's doing the right thing even though it's killing him. Michael's the only person who can make him realize he's wrong."

NCISLA

Callen stood in the hallway, watching Michael talking to Kensi. She said something and he turned. Although he no longer radiated abject terror he didn't look entirely at ease. Callen couldn't take his eyes off the boy, memorizing everything and tucking that memory away to sustain him for the rest of his lonely years.

"Hi," Michael said shyly.

"Hi. Did you have a good time with Kensi and Deeks?"

"They're nice." Michael looked quizzically at Deeks who had followed Callen out of Sam's room. "Is Kensi your girlfriend?"

Deeks grinned when he heard a choking noise from Kensi. "No, pal, she's my partner. Your dad…uh, Callen's going to look after you for a while. Kens and I will see you later."

Callen was vaguely aware of Kensi and Deeks leaving. He and Michael stared at each other, both uncertain of their next move. When Michael sidled over and took hold of his hand Callen caught his breath in surprise.

"The people here speak funny," Michael confided. "Marty says its…" His brow creased while he tried to remember what he had been told. "Romanian. Can you speak Romanian?"

"Yes, I can."

"Will you teach me?"

"I don't think so." Callen felt a deep pang of guilt when Michael's eager smile disappeared. "Okay, I'll teach you a couple of words. 'Hello' is salut or bunã. If you want to ask someone how they're feeling you would say 'ce mai faci?'"

When Michael stumbled through the unfamiliar pronunciation Callen felt a twinge of pride. They began to walk toward the main hospital entrance to find a cab. He tightened his grip on his son's hand.

"What's the word for 'daddy'?" Michael asked.

Callen's stomach lurched. "Tata."

"I like that."

An overwhelming sense of loss swept through Callen. There had never been a time in his life when he'd called anyone 'dad'. He cleared his throat. "So do I, Michael." There was a short line up of people waiting for taxis. "What's your favorite subject in school?" He had a deep curiosity about this boy who shared his DNA.

"Math," Michael replied without hesitation. "We don't learn other languages yet. I think I'll like that too."

"Do you play any sport?" They reached the front of the line and got in a cab. Callen made sure that Michael's seatbelt was fastened. He asked the driver to take them to the nearest store stocking children's clothes.

"Mommy's teaching me to swim and we ride our bikes on weekends. Do you have a bike? You could come with us."

"I don't think that would work, Michael. Your Mom and I haven't seen each other much since you were born. I don't think she'll want me around."

"I want you," Michael said softly, unshed tears shining in his eyes.

"We'll see," he hedged, unable to upset his son further by telling him the truth. Once Michael was home with his mother and surrounded by friends it wouldn't take long for him to put out of his mind the stranger who had entered his life for such a short time.

Michael's smile was dazzling. "Marty says we're going home tomorrow."

In contrast to Michael's enthusiasm Callen felt unmitigated sadness. He had no reason to love Romania and every incentive to leave except that it signalled the end of his relationship with his son. "That's right. We have a special plane coming just for us."

"Like the plane I was on before?" Michael shuddered. "I didn't like it. The men on it didn't speak to me and wouldn't give me anything to eat when I was hungry."

"It won't be the same this time. Sam, Kensi and Deeks will be with us and we'll make sure there's something good to eat."

The cab pulled up outside the City Park Mall and Callen paid the fare. When they walked inside he checked the interactive map and headed to the section dedicated to children's stores. He located the correct department where he looked helplessly at the racks of clothes. He had no idea what size to look for or where to start.

"Can I help you?"

He gave a sigh of relief. His inept confusion had apparently attracted the attention of one of the sale's assistants. "Please. We need two complete changes of clothes."

"Of course." She smiled at Michael. "What is your favorite color?"

Michael looked questioningly at Callen who quickly explained that they were visitors and that Michael didn't speak the language.

She switched to English. "I'm sorry. I thought you were local. Your accent is very good."

"Thank you." He stood back and watched her sort through the clothes. Michael chose a blue t-shirt and one with green and white stripes. Two pairs of jeans, underwear and socks were added to the pile. Callen's eyebrows shot up at the cost. He'd always been careful with money and only wore expensive clothes when they were provided by Hetty for his undercover work. It had never occurred to him that raising a child could be prohibitively expensive. No-one had ever spent much on him when he was growing up.

Even if he couldn't be in his son's life he could help financially. He had a feeling that Kristen's independent streak would cause her to baulk at accepting his money but he could be just as determined.

Once had paid for their purchases Michael tugged at his hand and pointed toward the toy department. Callen watched in wonder while his son scampered off to hunt through this new treasure trove. He couldn't remember ever being taken to a toy shop as a child. When Michael brought over a box of cars, some coloring books and crayons he couldn't resist the pleading look. He began to suspect that all children were skilled manipulators. Now he knew why Sam had been so intent upon finding his daughter the perfect Christmas present.

He could see the child gradually relaxing and admired his ability to put the fear behind him even if only for a little while. They walked to a nearby café where Callen ordered black coffee. His stomach was too unsettled for food even though he couldn't recall when he'd last had a decent meal. When Michael asked for a soda he found, to his surprise, that he was wondering if the sugary drink was a good idea. They compromised on a glass of milk and he had to smile at his son's pout.

Once they found a table Michael pulled out the crayons and one of his new books. While his son happily colored Callen got out his phone and dialled Deeks.

"How's it going?" Deeks asked.

"Good. How's Sam?"

"The doctor said he could leave. Of course, Sam was going to leave anyway 'cause he's just as bad as you are at accepting medical help. We're on our way back to the guest house."

"Have you spoken to Hetty?"

"Not since she confirmed that Arkady is lending us one of his executive jets. It'll be a damn sight more comfortable than that bone-shaker we used to get here."

"Any news from the police?"

"We can talk about that when you get here."

Callen sensed an evasion. "How about we talk about it now?"

Deeks sighed. "Alright. Ilena Vadim wants to see you."

Tbc

Caroline

June 2013


	14. Chapter 14

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Fourteen**

It was the sound of uninhibited laughter that piqued Sam's interest. Through the partly open bathroom door he saw Callen perched on the edge of the tub with Michael splashing happily in the bubble-infested water. It has been a long time since he'd seen his partner so happy and he immediately started to back away so as not to intrude upon the intimate moment. However it appeared that Callen never completely relaxed his vigilance and he turned before Sam could disappear from view. The humour vanished from Callen's face although he remained relaxed.

"Sorry," Sam said. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Michael peered around his father, his eyes wide. "Does your head still hurt?"

"Not as much as it did."

Callen stood up and stretched lazily. The dark circles around his eyes had deepened, leaving him looking on the verge of a collapse. "Any news?"

"It can wait."

"Stay here, Michael. I need to speak to Sam and then it'll be time for bed."

Michael clutched at Callen's arm, alarm spreading across his face. "Don't leave me."

"I'll just be in the hallway and I'll keep the door open. Okay?"

Although the boy looked less than convinced he managed to nod. He let go and returned his attention to the intriguing task of building a tower of bubbles. Callen ruffled his son's wet hair affectionately. "You're being very brave. I bet your Mom's gonna be proud of you."

When Michael smiled Sam could see a glimpse of the way Callen must have looked as a child before the system beat the joy and spontaneity out of him. It was a source of continued wonder that his partner had found a way to overcome that. Callen left the door partly open and took up a position from which he and Michael could see each other.

"How do you really feel?" Callen asked, eying Sam critically.

"Better than a couple of hours ago." Sam leant against the wall hoping to disguise how shaky he felt. The slight smirk on his partner's face was a clear indication that he wasn't fooling anyone. "Did you know that the owner of this place has been spying on the Comescu family for years on Hetty's behalf? It's no wonder he didn't find it odd that you should disappear all night and then turn up with a son and a friend with a concussion."

Callen shook his head in amazement. "She never ceases to surprise us. What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

"It'll take us an hour to get to the airfield and they want us off the ground by two in the afternoon." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a passport. "Ilena used this to get Michael into the country. The police found it when they searched her house."

There was a slight tremor in Callen's hand when he opened it. He angled it so that Sam could see. "Michael Callen." His expression was somber. "He's fortunate that isn't his name. It's brought nothing but bad luck."

"You can change that."

"I don't think so," Callen stated decisively, signifying that the subject was closed. "I should get Michael ready for bed. Once he's asleep we can get together with Kensi and Deeks."

"Are you going to see Ilena tomorrow?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"What good can come out of it?"

"I don't know, Sam," Callen replied wearily.

"When did you last sleep?"

Callen shrugged. "Don't remember. Let me get Michael settled then we can talk."

"Okay. Take your time."

NCISLA

For Kristen sleeping in her own bed had been an unbelievable luxury. After learning that Michael was safe she had broken down in a storm of tears. Hetty had waited patiently for the deluge to abate before suggesting driving her home. The memory of that white-knuckle ride made Kristen chuckle. Hetty embraced the challenges of the road with a little too much enthusiasm and disregard for personal safety. Their shared concern for Michael and those risking their lives to retrieve him had formed a deep and unexpected bond between them. When she asked Hetty if she would stay the night it wasn't necessary to explain that she wasn't ready to be alone.

Her feelings for Callen were confusing. She understood now why he had felt the need to disappear from her life. It didn't make it any easier to bear and neither did the realization that she still loved him. They both had a lot to forgive if there was to be any hope of reconciliation. According to Hetty extreme measures would be necessary to break through Callen's stubborn belief that she and Michael would be safer if he wasn't in their lives.

She was also struggling with the strong feeling that she was somehow dishonoring Tommy's memory by even considering a relationship with Callen. Tommy had been a source of strength for many years and she missed him every day. Their friendship had gradually turned to love once she allowed herself to trust again. He was a good man who had worked hard to provide security for her and Michael.

The smell of coffee and burnt toast wafted up the stairs. Kristen got out of bed and slipped on her robe. When she reached the kitchen Hetty gave her an apologetic look.

"I'm afraid I never mastered the art of cooking," Hetty said while waving a dish towel around to dispel the smoke.

Kristen smiled. "Don't worry about it." She poured a mug of coffee. "How about an omelette? It seems a long time since we ate anything more than sandwiches."

"Yes. That would be nice." Hetty abandoned her efforts and sat down.

While Kristen prepared the food she was very conscious of Hetty watching her. "You think I was wrong, don't you?"

"In what way?" Hetty asked disingenuously.

"Lying about Michael." Kristen put the omelette and a couple of slices of fresh toast onto a plate and turned to face her guest.

As usual, Hetty's expression gave nothing away. "It's not for me to say."

"I'd like your opinion."

"You made the decision that was right for you at the time. Michael thought of Tommy as his father. You were engaged to be married and Mr. Callen's actions while posing as Jason Tedrow hurt you deeply. I'm in no position to criticize. For more than thirty years I lied to him by omission. I could have told him about his mother and the Comescu family. Perhaps it would have been better if I had told him the truth." She sighed deeply. "Hindsight is wonderful but my experience is that we do the best we can and then live with the consequences."

"Do you think there's any chance he'll forgive me?"

"He has a surprisingly loving nature, although he will fervently deny it. My sources tell me that he's besotted with his son and that Michael has taken to him, despite receiving a fright during his rescue. That doesn't mean that he won't sacrifice his own happiness for the greater good."

"What can I do?"

"That rather depends upon what you want to happen. If you do nothing he will disappear again and you'll never see him again. If you want a different outcome you need to be stronger than he is. Do you think you can manage that?"

Kristen looked down at her hands, tears forming in her eyes. "I don't know, Hetty. I really don't know."

Tbc

Caroline

June, 2013


	15. Chapter 15

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Fifteen**

Callen hadn't intended to fall asleep. When he opened his eyes it was night although the light from a full moon bathed the room in a gentle glow. He rolled over. Michael lay next to him, sprawled on his back in a deep and peaceful sleep. The clock on the nightstand read 3:24.

He lay for a while listening to his son's soft breaths while thinking back to the previous evening. He'd encountered Michael's stubborn streak when he tried to get the boy to go to bed. Michael denied feeling tired, claiming that his mother let him stay up much later. Over the years Callen had witnessed similar battles of will between Sam and his daughter so he wasn't entirely unprepared. Neither did he believe that he was being told the truth.

After listing off all the good reasons why Michael should obey him he still found that he was floundering against his son's implacable certainty that he could do what he liked. For one bemused moment Callen wondered how he could lead and control a team of élite agents when he apparently couldn't control one small boy.

Logic didn't work and he wasn't prepared to use threats or try to rely too much upon his fledgling parental authority. It left him with extremely limited options. Finally he suggested that they just lie quietly on the bed. After some thought Michael agreed and that was the last thing Callen remembered.

It gradually occurred to him that this was the first time he'd been alone with his thoughts since arriving in Romania. It was hard to believe that only twenty-four hours had passed. In that time his emotions had swung from one extreme to the other.

Now, watching his son sleep, he was faced with the conflict between his desires and reality. In an ideal world he would have a civilized relationship with Kristen and an opportunity to be part of Michael's life. Sadly, he harbored no illusions about Kristen and him. Despite loving her and knowing she felt the same he'd still disappeared without a word. He couldn't expect her to forgive that or trust him again.

Ironically he'd faced the same dilemma with Tracy. All his hurt and anger had resurfaced when she turned up unexpectedly. He'd cared about her and she'd betrayed him. The irony wasn't lost on him. At least he'd gone into that relationship knowing that her first loyalty was to the mission. Kristen had been an innocent caught up in a deadly game. There was no going back with Kristen even though seeing her again had set his heart racing. For all the same reasons he didn't have the right to inflict his presence upon her.

Then there was the problem of his unreliability. Children needed stability, something that had been conspicuously lacking during his childhood. His job made it hard to make arrangements to see Michael regularly. He could be called away on a classified mission at a moment's notice, sometimes for weeks or months. How many cancelled visits would it take before his son decided that the disappointment was too great to bear? The final consideration was the risk of Michael or Kristen being used against him again. He couldn't subject them to that. His decision made perfect sense…and made him feel dead inside.

He rolled silently out of bed, needing some air to clear his jumbled thoughts. Michael didn't stir. Callen reached into his bag to retrieve his gun and an ammunition clip. He didn't want to venture outside unarmed but his main concern was not leaving his son alone with a weapon. He waited until he was in the hallway before sliding the clip into place.

The door leading to the exterior stairs was unlocked. It opened soundlessly and he stepped outside. He was close to the bottom of the stairway when he saw movement in the garden. He raised his gun and took aim, only relaxing when he recognized Deeks.

"What are you doing out here?" Callen asked.

"Keeping an eye on things." Deeks gave him a crooked smile. "Even with Ilena in jail this is still hostile territory."

Callen drew in a sharp breath. His pre-occupation with Michael had made him blind to the inherent danger of their situation. "You're right. Go to bed. I'll keep watch."

Deeks ambled over to lean against the railing. "You watch Michael. We'll take care of everything else."

"You've all done enough."

"You'd do the same for us. How are you and Michael getting along?"

"We're good." Callen considered Deeks thoughtfully. "Why were you so intent upon getting me to spend time with him?"

Deeks shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea."

"I know when I'm being manipulated," Callen said mildly. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it won't work."

A spark of anger crossed Deeks' face. "He needs his father."

"There are worse things in life than not having a father." Callen knew he was walking close to a precipice given Deeks' history but he needed his friends to back away from the idea that there could be a happy ending.

"You're right," Deeks replied. "He could have a violent alcoholic for a father. I bet you experienced that as well a time or two while you were moving from home to home." The softly spoken words were laced with bitterness. "Didn't you ever wonder what it would be like to have a father who loved you? I sure as hell did, right up to the second I shot mine to stop him from hurting my mother again."

"I'm sorry." Callen broke eye contact. "I had no right to say that to you."

"No, you didn't." Deeks' harsh breathing gradually subsided. "You didn't answer my question."

Callen sat down heavily on the bottom step. "Yes, I thought about it for a long time, until I was old enough to realize it didn't matter anymore. Michael's been lucky enough to experience it. He grew up believing Tommy was his father. I saw them together, Deeks. What they had was the real deal."

"Tommy's dead."

"That doesn't change anything. I can't be the kind of father he was."

"No-one's suggesting you should be."

"Michael needs someone who is there for him all the time, not just when my schedule lets me grab a few minutes with him. He's too young to understand that."

"Sam makes it work," Deeks persisted stubbornly.

"He tries. He's lucky that Michelle knows what it means to be an agent. What would it be like for Kristen? I can't explain things to her, or tell her about my cases. She'd be left trying to explain to Michael why I'd let him down again. Look around you, Deeks. How many people we work with have a family? Hetty? Granger? Even Kensi's parents split up because of her father's job."

"And Kensi ran away from home to be with her father."

"Yes, she did, and by doing that she destroyed her relationship with her mother for years. You need to face the facts, Deeks. We can't have a normal family life."

"I don't accept that," Deeks replied passionately. "One day I'm going to have a wife and kids. My children'll know I love them even if I have to be away from them sometimes to do my job. What would you have done if Kristen had told you she was pregnant before you left her?"

It was a question he'd thought a lot about since learning that he was a father. "I don't know. If I'd stayed it would have jeopardized the mission and I would have had to tell her the truth. She'd probably have kicked me out."

There was a long silence. Finally Deeks spoke. "Tell me you don't love Michael and I'll back off," he challenged.

Callen stood up painfully aware that he couldn't hide his true feelings. "Of course I love him. That's why I can't be part of his life."

NCISLA

Callen entrusted Michael to Sam's care while he drove to the police station to see Ilena Vadim. After his confrontation with Deeks he hadn't slept and it had been a bitter-sweet pleasure to watch his son greet the new day. Michael woke up hungry and excited about the journey home. The boy was happily working his way through a plate of bacon, eggs and toast when Callen slipped away.

He'd been tempted to ignore Ilena's request, having no wish to see the woman who had inflicted so much misery upon Kristen and her son. It was his training and experience that forced the decision. Gathering intelligence had been his life for over twenty years and he couldn't turn his back on the opportunity to find out if the Comescu family was still a threat.

Once again Hetty had smoothed the way for him. He showed his passport, surrendered his weapon and was ushered into a private room. In the harsh light he could see the peeling paint on the walls and the dents in the metal table that would separate him from Ilena. The table and both chairs were screwed to the floor, a sensible precaution in a town which seemed to breed violence. There were no windows and no sign of any surveillance equipment. It was ten minutes before the door opened and Ilena walked in accompanied by a female guard.

"I will wait outside," the guard told him after removing Ilena's shackles.

Callen carefully scrutinized his enemy, burying his surprize deeply inside. Although Ilena looked tired and mildly dishevelled she carried herself with an air of supreme self-confidence. There was no sign of the mental and physical collapse of the previous day. He made an effort to relax and waited for her to speak.

"I wasn't sure you would come," she said.

"What do you want, Ilena?"

"How's your son?" she asked smugly.

"He's none of your concern." Callen stood up. "If you only asked me here to bait me you're wasting your time."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Please sit. This won't take long."

Callen's hostile glare didn't soften although he did return to his seat. Despite her words there was nothing about her demeanour to suggest that she regretted anything she had said or done. "Go on."

"I want an assurance that my children will be safe."

"What do I get in return?" The latest information from Eric and Nell was that Ilena's children had vanished an hour after her arrest. They were still trying to track them down.

"My gratitude."

"Not good enough."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "I have already promised to leave your son alone."

"You're not in any position to harm him. I doubt you'll see the outside of a jail cell for at least twenty years."

Her response was a complacent smile. "I have something else to offer if you use your influence to gain my release."

"Why would I want to do that?" He felt a twisting in his gut. Whatever she had to say would be designed to hurt him.

"Do you know how I found out about you? My cousin Dracul came to find me once he realized that the woman who had stolen my identity was an American federal agent. He told me of your grandfather. Every Roma understands the concept of a blood feud. That is why your mother died and why you should have died with her. Even so, I didn't want to become involved. I had my own family to think of."

"What changed?"

"You killed Dracul. I was left as head of the family."

"How did you find out about Michael?"

"Aunt Alexa had many sources of information. When Dracul died all that information came to me." She gave a harsh laugh. "You didn't really believe she kept anything of importance in the beach house did you?"

Callen licked his dry lips. "You haven't told me anything useful. If that's the best you've got…"

"Oh, I have far more than that." She leaned forward intently. "I have your parent's marriage license and the birth records for you and your sister. I can tell you who your father is and where you can find him. He's an old man now. Don't you want to meet him before he dies? There must be so many questions you want to ask. I know your name and everything about your life. Is that enough to buy my freedom, Agent Callen?"

Tbc

Caroline

July 2013


	16. Chapter 16

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Sixteen**

From his seat in the back of the car Callen could see the reflection of Sam's eyes in the rear view mirror. He knew that his silence was causing his partner to become increasingly concerned but didn't have the energy to pretend that everything was okay. Michael was too young to realize that anything was wrong or to understand the significance of the terse responses to his endless stream of questions.

They turned left onto the road leading to a private airfield. Sam stopped the car at the security hut and showed his badge to the guard. With an air of indifference they were waved through. Callen turned his head to gaze out the back window. Kensi and Deeks' car followed close behind.

They reached the hangar where a sleek white jet with light blue and grey markings awaited them. "Wow!" Michael's eyes were wide.

Callen could understand why his son was so impressed. He recognized the plane. The Embraer Legacy 600 was close to being at the top of the class of luxury executive jets. He'd been lucky enough to fly on one a time or two and knew they could expect a comfortable journey home. Michael quickly left the car to stand at the bottom of the steps.

Deeks joined him, his expression almost as awe-struck as the boy's. "Want to check it out?"

Michael glanced back at Callen, silently seeking permission. "Okay. Just don't touch anything. That goes for you too, Deeks."

The boy scampered up the steps closely followed by Kensi and Deeks. Callen walked back to the car to open the trunk and pull out his bag. When he turned around he found Sam was blocking his way.

"Want to tell me what she said?" Sam folded his arms, giving the impression that he was prepared to stay there all day if necessary.

"Not really."

Sam sighed. "Something's spooked you. If you talk about it we can help."

"There's nothing to talk about." He sidestepped his partner, relieved when Sam let him go. Through the windshield of the plane he could see the pilot and co-pilot running through their pre-departure checks. He climbed the stairs and ducked his head to step through the doorway. He could hear Sam following him and suspected that he would have to face more questions at some point in their journey.

To his left was the galley. He could smell coffee brewing which reminded him that he hadn't eaten since the previous evening. His stomach was so unsettled that the mere thought of food made him feel nauseous. He turned toward the main cabin. It had been carefully designed to provide passengers with three distinct semi-private areas. Two rows of single seats were situated on either side of the aisle. Behind them was a set of four, two with their backs to the galley and two facing the front of the plane. At the rear was a sofa running along the side of the fuselage with two seats beyond that. Kensi and Deeks had taken the first two leather chairs while Michael stood between them, grinning broadly.

"Arkady sure knows how to enjoy the good things in life," Deeks said. "He's even provided us with cabin crew." His smile was openly flirtatious and caused Callen to turn round.

The young woman standing in the entrance to the galley was smartly dressed in dark blue pants and jacket and a white blouse. With her short dark hair, deep brown eyes and sensuous lips Callen could see why Deeks would be attracted. Despite her good looks there was a hard edge to her demeanour that suggested she would not be so easily impressed. Callen greeted her politely in Russian and asked two questions. Her response provoked a faint smile.

"Her name is Raisa and she was an agent with the FSB, the Federal Security Service, until Arkady offered to pay her more to work for him. Make one wrong move, Deeks, and you'll be lucky if you can still walk when we land."

Kensi turned a smug look on her partner. "Never mind, lover boy, you'll just have to save yourself for all those bimbos back in LA."

"What's a 'bimbo'?" Michael asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Callen said briskly. He ushered Michael to a seat, stopping only long enough to glare at his younger teammates.

As soon as they were all settled the pilot switched on the engines. Within a few minutes they were airborne and had reached their cruising altitude. Raisa served coffee and then took Michael back to the galley to choose a soda from the fridge.

Callen sipped the hot liquid while avoiding eye contact with his partner. He needed time to consider the implications of Ilena's assertion that his father was still alive. His first reaction hadn't been joy, it had been anger. How old had he and his sister been when their father left them? Why had he never sought to rescue them from the unfeeling embrace of the orphanage and foster care system? It was manifestly unfair that their father should still be alive when Amy had died unnecessarily so many years ago.

His brooding was interrupted by Michael's return. The boy was carefully balancing a bottle of cola and a plate piled high with cookies. From the look of the chocolate smears around his mouth he'd already eaten some.

Sam glared disapprovingly at the sugar-laden treats. "If you let Michael eat too many of those he'll be bouncing off the walls."

Callen snagged a cookie from the plate and took a bite just for the pleasure of watching Sam's expression darken further. "Don't worry, Sam. I'll help him."

"You're impossible." Sam undid his seat belt. "I'm going to check the flight time with the pilot. The plane doesn't carry enough fuel to get us home without one stop."

"When will I see Mommy?" Michael asked.

"She'll be at the airport to meet us."

Michael looked down at his drink and fiddled with the bottle cap. "Do you think she's going to be mad at me?" he finally asked softly.

Callen frowned in confusion. "Why would she be mad at you?"

"She told me not to go anywhere with strangers and I went with the lady who came to the school."

There was an immediate rush of sympathy for his son and an overwhelming urge to reassure him. "That wasn't your fault. She told the school that your Mom had given permission. The teacher made the decision. You were only doing what you were told."

Michael gave him a grateful smile. "Will you come home with us?"

"I can't, Michael. I have my own home."

"Do you have any other children?" Michael asked hesitantly, his vivid blue stare fixed on Callen's face.

"No. You're the only one and I'm very happy that I finally met you."

NCISLA

Three hours into the flight Callen had managed to avoid further interrogation by his partner. Raisa had served a meal which he'd made some effort to eat but only to set a good example to his son. Kensi and Deeks, both tired from an interrupted night's sleep, were taking advantage of the fact that the seats reclined into flat beds. Neither of them had moved for the last forty minutes. When Michael started to get bored Sam rummaged in his bag and produced a couple of DVDs containing a mixture of cartoons.

"I know what it's like to travel with children," he explained.

Once Michael was settled in front of one of the flat screen TV sets Callen got out his lap-top and moved to the back of the plane. He turned it on, connected to the plane's Wi-Fi and sat back to consider his next move. Although it was still early in LA he was fairly sure that someone would be in Ops. Raisa brought him a beer which he accepted gratefully. While he drank he stared out the window at the pale blue sky and wisps of cloud.

Was it hypocritical for him to hate his father for abandoning him and Amy? He didn't know the circumstances leading to that decision. Until meeting Michael he would have said there was no excuse for walking out on a child. Now he could understand that sometimes that was the safest option. He knew Sam disagreed with him. In truth his whole team thought he had made the wrong decision. It would be easy for his resolve to waver. Every time he looked at his son he felt a warm glow. He'd experienced it during his time with Kristen. It was what love felt like and was very different from the cool detachment that he'd lived with for most of his adult life.

He clicked on the icon that would connect him to the office. When Eric answered Callen saw how tired the young man looked. He hadn't lived this nightmare alone. "Hey, Eric. How're things?"

"Good to see you, Callen. We're doing okay although Hetty said to tell you that there's a new case waiting for you when you get back."

"Of course there is," Callen replied ruefully. "We'll be landing early evening your time."

"Hi Callen." Nell peered over Eric's shoulder. "We've missed you. Do you want to speak to Hetty?"

"In a minute. You both did good work. We couldn't have rescued Michael without your help." He took a minute to enjoy their broad smiles. "Is there any news about Ilena's children?"

"Nothing yet," Nell replied sounding frustrated. "All we know is that they were picked up by helicopter. We're still looking though."

"Thanks. Let me know if you get anything. Can you transfer me to Hetty? I need to speak to her privately."

The screen momentarily went blank. When the picture returned he was face to face with his Operations Manager. A brief smile lighting up her face made her look younger and less care-worn.

"Mr. Callen. You look tired."

"No more than usual. Will you be with Kristen when we arrive?"

"I thought I would come and witness the reunion."

Callen noticed that she didn't elaborate on that statement. "I saw Ilena this morning. She offered me a deal."

"Oh?"

"She wants her freedom. In return she says she'll tell me everything I've ever wanted to know about my past."

"Do you believe her?"

"Yes, I do. She told me that my father is still alive and that she knows where he lives."

Even with all her years of experience Hetty couldn't hide her surprise. "That's unexpected. Alexa told me she knew a lot about you although she didn't provide any facts to back that up. I thought perhaps she was doing it to induce me to share my knowledge. What answer did you give Ms. Vadim?"

Callen kept a ruthless hold on his emotions even though he knew Hetty would see right through him. "What do you think I told her? She's guilty of serious crimes. She hurt Michael and Kristen. Whatever she can tell me isn't worth letting her get away with that. I turned her down."

Tbc

Caroline

July 2013


	17. Chapter 17

There are a couple of things I want to say before you get to the next chapter. The first is I am overwhelmed to have passed 100 reviews particularly as I know the idea of Callen as a father and possibly in a relationship with Kristen isn't necessarily popular.

This was always intended to be a story about Callen and Michael. The concept of Callen's father being alive crept up on me so I think it's only fair to tell you that you won't get an answer to all the questions in this story. It deserves a story of its own and takes me outside my usual comfort zone of writing stories that follow the established canon of the series. It is a fascinating subject and one I am looking forward to exploring.

Finally, a few reviewers have expressed surprise that Callen would refuse Ilena's offer. Strangely, it never occurred to me that he would do anything else. This chapter should clarify his reasons.

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Michael fell asleep shortly after the plane took off from the airport at Halifax, Nova Scotia, on the last leg of the journey home. He had become increasingly irritable and hard to handle though a combination of boredom, tiredness and, now that his ordeal was almost over, a severe bout of homesickness. He was too young to understand distances or the need to travel for twelve or thirteen hours to reach their destination. He only knew that he missed his mother and familiar surroundings.

Callen admitted defeat when his son became inconsolable and on the verge of being physically sick. He called Kristen. She listened to his explanation without comment before spending ten minutes patiently calming Michael down. When silence was abruptly restored everyone else on the plane gave a collective sigh of relief.

The outpouring of emotion exhausted the little boy and it didn't take long after that for him to drift off to sleep. Callen reclined the seat, slid a pillow under Michael's head and covered him with a blanket. Once he was satisfied that Michael was resting quietly he assembled his team. After speaking to Hetty he'd decided that they had the right to know what Ilena had proposed. They waited patiently while he ordered his thoughts.

"Ilena asked to see me to propose a deal," he said.

"A plea bargain?" Kensi asked.

"Not exactly. She thought she had enough leverage to persuade me to arrange for her release."

Sam studied his partner intently. "What did she offer?"

"Everything I've been looking for including the identity and location of my father." His revelation was greeted with a stunned silence.

"You accepted, right?" Deeks asked. "I mean this is your life we're talking about."

"I know what it is and, believe me, I was tempted."

Kensi frowned at him. "You said no?"

"You know the rules, Kens. You don't make personal deals with criminals. It kills a career in law enforcement."

"To hell with that," Deeks said passionately. "Isn't knowing the truth worth the risk of losing your job?"

"No it's not," Sam said, intuitively understanding Callen's reasoning. "Not when you've dedicated your life to helping keep your country safe."

"Sam's right. The minute I do a deal with Ilena I give the Comescu family a hold over me. My credibility would be shot."

"Don't you want to know? Your father's still alive, Callen. You'd have a chance to get to know him."

"What if he doesn't want to get to know me, Kensi? He hasn't made any effort to find me for the last thirty-five years." The bitterness he had been trying to bury rose to the surface and he immediately regretted his tone and loss of control.

"You don't know that," Deeks argued. "You've stayed under the radar with long periods of time spent deep undercover. You're a ghost and any record of your existence is highly classified."

Despite his simmering anger Callen had to accept the logic of Deeks' words. "I'm not sure of anything any more," he admitted.

"Which is why you need to reconsider your answer to Ilena," Deeks said.

Callen took several calming breaths before leaning forward to meet the gaze of each of his friends in turn. Sam looked concerned; his ingrained urge to look out for his partner overriding everything else. Despite an almost blind loyalty Callen knew Sam understood him better than most people.

Kensi seemed sympathetic to his dilemma which was a natural reaction given her history. Her relationship with her father had been strong enough to cause her to run away from home as a teenager to follow him. A misplaced hatred for her mother had left them estranged for years until recent events had forced reconciliation between them. She would recognize his conflicted feelings.

Deeks met his eyes with an angry challenging stare. They had already clashed over Michael. Even though Deeks' childhood had been a nightmare he still believed in family. It said a lot about his strength of character that he could overcome his past and be optimistic about the future. Callen envied that ability. He'd lived without a family for so long that he couldn't imagine what it would be like to have one.

"I won't be her pawn." He held up a hand to stop Deeks' explosive protest. "That doesn't mean I'm going to give up. She gave away a lot more information than she realizes. Hetty told me that my mother went back to Romania in 1966 as a CIA agent. In July 1967 she gave birth to Amy. We don't know if she was pregnant when she left America or became pregnant shortly after arriving in Romania. Until today I wasn't even sure Amy and I shared the same father."

"What changed?" Kensi asked.

"Ilena told me that my parents were married. Hetty doesn't know anything about my father which means the marriage must have happened after my mother arrived in Romania. With the background checks done by the CIA before they recruited her she would never have been able to hide that. If Ilena is to be believed her family has a copy of my parents' marriage license. If there's a record I'll find it without her help."

"Do you think your father was Romanian?"

"I don't know, Sam. In the 1960's Romania was a Communist country which was why the CIA wanted an agent there. My mother was undercover as a student, probably told to infiltrate radical groups with close ties to the ruling party. I'd always just assumed my father was American because I ended up there but Americans wouldn't have been welcome in any of the Soviet dominated countries."

He felt a deep exhaustion tugging at the edges of his consciousness. He needed to sleep for a few hours before landing if he was going to be able to deal with Kristen and the sadness of saying good-bye to his son. A quick glance reassured him that Michael was sleeping soundly.

"There's something else I realized. The day my mother was murdered I have no memory of Amy being with us on the beach. That might not mean anything. I can't have been much older than three when it happened. But, if she wasn't there, how did we both end up in the same orphanage in Los Angeles?"

"You think it was your father who left you there?" Kensi asked.

Callen shook his head in frustration. "Maybe. One thing I do know is that it was our mother's name, Callen that was used. Why?"

"You have a theory?" Sam asked.

"I can't be sure," Callen admitted. "It could be whoever brought us to America didn't know about the feud and the danger of using that name. There's another possibility, though. What if carrying our father's name was more dangerous? Amy and I disappeared into a system that deals with thousands of displaced children every year. Our surname isn't unique and, if we'd been adopted, it would have disappeared. It was the perfect place to hide us."

"What're you thinking, G?"

"If our father was Eastern European his surname would have stood out. What if everything that happened was designed keep us safe?"

Tbc

Caroline

July 2013


	18. Chapter 18

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Eighteen**

A touch on the shoulder woke Callen. "We will be landing in thirty minutes," Raisa told him.

"Thank you." He pressed the button to raise the seat. The sound of the engine had changed. If they were that close to landing they would gradually be losing height and settling into the approach pattern.

Callen suppressed a yawn. He felt worse than before he'd fallen asleep. Michael began to stir, a look of confusion quickly being replaced by a sleepy smile.

"We're nearly there." Callen kept his tone light to mask the deep sadness those words invoked.

Michael immediately sat up quivering with excitement. "How soon?"

"There's just time to get you cleaned up. Come on." Callen stood and held out his hand. Michael grasped it eagerly and followed him to the bathroom.

Michael's efforts to wash his hands and face were superficial at best. He made a slightly better attempt at cleaning his teeth. Callen didn't have the heart to rebuke him. He ran a comb through his son's hair and decided that it would just have to do.

"Go back to your seat. I'll be there in a minute."

Callen locked the door once Michael left and leaned heavily on the edge of the sink. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. The harsh lighting in the small room was unforgiving. There were no kindly shadows to hide the ravages of time and bitter experience. His eyes were blood-shot and the skin underneath them was puffy and darkened as if it were bruised. He hadn't shaved in days so that he looked scruffier than usual. The word that immediately sprang to mind to describe his appearance was 'haggard'.

Was there anything in his coloring or features that would hint at his heritage? His mother's hair had been dark; his was a dirty blond. She had been half-Roma but, contrary to popular belief, not all Roma people were dark-haired and swarthy. Although Grigore Comescu fit that stereo-type, Dracul had not. Even blue eyes were not unusual. Was his father also Roma or was he some ordinary man who found himself unwittingly in the middle of a blood feud? What had his mother learnt after seven years that had driven her to contact her CIA handler desperate to leave the country?

The list of questions continued to grow longer and now wasn't the time to think about them. In less than an hour Michael would be lost to him. That it was his decision didn't make it any easier to bear. He splashed cold water on his face in a futile attempt to improve both his mood and his appearance, while trying to banish the insidious thought that maybe Kristen wouldn't look at him with loathing.

Callen closed his eyes, counting slowly to ten while he concentrated on regulating his breathing. He could do this. After all he'd been in worse situations in his life. He'd walked away from Kristen once with only the slightest pang of conscience. He could do it again. He held that belief for thirty seconds. As soon as he exited the bathroom and saw Michael he knew it was a lie. Then he thought about what Ilena had done and his resolve hardened.

Sam was back in his seat and raised an eyebrow when Callen sat opposite him.

"When we land can you keep Kensi and Deeks on the plane?" Callen asked in Russian. "Let me give Michael back to Kristen on my own." He was asking a lot by excluding his friends but it would be hard enough knowing that Hetty would be there.

"Whatever you need, G."

"Thanks, Sam."

"You won't change your mind?"

Callen shook his head before checking that Michael's seatbelt was fastened.

"Are you sure Mommy will be here?" Michael asked.

"Positive."

The plane touched down smoothly, taxied to a private hangar and stopped. As soon as the engines were switched off Sam walked forward to speak softly to Kensi and Deeks.

"Ready?" Callen asked his son.

He kept a hand on Michael's shoulder while they walked to the front of the plane. Michael grinned at everyone he passed until he reached the open door and looked out.

"Mommy!" he yelled.

Callen watched the reunion between mother and son, fully aware that Hetty was watching him. The happiness on Kristen's face when Michael rushed into her open arms reminded Callen of his mother's laughter just before she was killed. It was a moment of pure joy frozen in time. His feelings didn't matter. This was all about Kristen and Michael. He walked down the steps and onto the tarmac, stopping before he got close enough to intrude.

Kristen looked up with tears streaming down her face. Her watery smile dazzled him. "Thank you," she said.

He turned aside to greet Hetty. Now that the moment was here the warmth from the sun did nothing to dispel the chilling numbness creeping through his body. "You'll make sure they get home safely?"

"Of course, Mr. Callen, but I thought…."

"They don't need me, Hetty."

"I think you're wrong about that. I also think that you need them."

He stared at her sorrowfully. "Let it go," he begged.

"Agent Callen."

His shoulders stiffened at the sound of Kristen's voice and the formal nature of the address. Why had he ever expected anything different?

"Don't you think she at least deserves an explanation?" Hetty asked shrewdly.

When he turned round Michael darted toward him and took hold of his hand to tug him forward. "Come on. Mommy wants to talk to you."

He had no choice other than to follow his son. To pull away would confuse and hurt the child. He couldn't interpret Kristen's expression except that it didn't look like outright hatred. Callen felt unaccountably nervous. His history of relationships wasn't extensive. He'd had undercover liaisons of course, one of which he'd thought had become something real. There had been numerous one-night stands in is twenties when he'd revelled in his freedom although the attraction of these superficial encounters had quickly faded.

It was easy to blame his job for the lack of commitment. The truth was he'd never found anyone he wanted to settle down with until Kristen and that was doomed the minute it began. What kind of man embarked on a relationship knowing he would disappear once the mission was over? Had he always been an unfeeling bastard or had that come with practice? Well, he was reaping his rewards now. He came face to face with the mother of his child, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty. He'd stared down death with greater equilibrium.

When Kristen looked away and cleared her throat he realized she was just as nervous.

"Can we talk?" she asked. "Not here…I mean, maybe you could come round to the house tomorrow."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"So that's it?" Uncertainty turned swiftly to anger. "You get to leave again without a word? What about Michael? What about me?"

"This is the best thing for both of you."

"You don't get to decide that this time. Hetty told me…"

"I don't care what she told you," he interrupted forcefully. "She had no right to tell you anything about me."

"Daddy?" Michael sounded bewildered by the sudden change in mood.

A deep feeling of shame washed over Callen. "It's alright, Michael."

"He's already lost Tommy," Kristen said with a catch in her voice. "If he's going to lose you too I'd like to understand why."

"You don't want me involved in his life. I won't walk away from my responsibilities…"

"What? You'll send me money every month?" Kristen asked scathingly. "You think that's what this is about?" She flushed and then seemed to remember that Michael was listening. "I only want an hour of your time. Can you spare that?"

Callen's resolve faltered. In all the years since Kristen he had never met anyone like her. It would be as painful as probing an open wound to spend time with her knowing that there could be nothing between them. Yet, he couldn't deny her. "Tomorrow night," he conceded.

Michael flung his arms around Callen and looked up at him with a brilliant smile. "Will you play ball with me tomorrow?"

Callen swallowed hard unable to tear his gaze away from the innocent blue eyes of his son and knew that he was lost.

Tbc

Caroline

July 2013


	19. Chapter 19

I thought this would be the last chapter but it turns out I have too much to wrap up. References in this chapter are to the early stages of the enquiry that culminated in one of my favourite episodes "The Chosen One".

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Nineteen**

Hetty was deeply engrossed in reading an intelligence briefing when Sam arrived at work the following morning. After reaching the end and initialling the final page she looked up and saw him watching her. "Good morning, Mr. Hanna," she called out.

"Morning Hetty." He sat down opposite her. "Is G here yet?"

"I haven't seen him." She closed the file and sat back. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

"I very much doubt that. The doctor who treated you in Romania sent me a report. Now, where did I put it?" She shuffled the papers littering her desk until she found the single sheet she was looking for. "Let me see. Ah, yes. 'The patient suffered a mild concussion, the symptoms of which were compounded by a delay in seeking medical assistance. Although complications are not expected my recommendation is for light duties for a period of one week.' You will spend the next week in Ops."

Sam leaned forward aggressively. "You can't do that."

"I think you underestimate my power, Mr. Hanna."

"G needs me to back him up."

"Normally I would agree with you but I think it will do Mr. Callen good to be on his own for a while. He has a lot to think about."

"He'll brood," Sam protested. "You know what he's like when he broods."

"He'll be too busy for that."

"If Callen's operational I'm going with him."

"There's no danger, just some preliminary enquiries. Why don't you go and find Mr. Beale and Miss Jones? They can brief you on our new case."

"This is a terrible idea, Hetty."

"I'll take care of your partner, Sam. No harm is going to come to him. We've all given him very good advice about Michael but he needs time now to make the decision for himself. His meeting with Ms. Donnelly this evening will shape his future. The best thing we can do for him now is to give him the space he needs and be there to support him whatever the final outcome might be."

NCISLA

It wasn't long after Sam's grudging acceptance of her orders that Callen arrived. Although she would never admit it she was extremely worried by his appearance. After living for so long without a family he was clearly struggling with the realization that he not only had a son but a father who could answer all the questions that had plagued him.

She did not expect a cordial meeting having heard his outburst when Kristen made reference to the fact that she had been told something of his life. In fact, his aggressive demeanour meant it was going to be thoroughly unpleasant. She adopted her blandest expression while she waited for the explosion.

Callen stalked over to her desk and glared at her. "What did you tell Kristen?"

It was too late for second thoughts or subterfuge. "Everything."

"What gives you the right to meddle in my life?" He slammed his palms down on her desk, his glacial stare boring into her.

"I did what I thought was right."

"How the hell could it be right to tell Kristen about my mother and the Comescu family? Did you tell her about my father too or didn't you have time?" he asked with bitter sarcasm.

"Sit down, Mr. Callen."

He straightened up and crossed his arms, stubbornly holding his ground. "Why tell her anything?"

"Because I knew you never would. Please, sit down." For several seconds she was afraid that he would walk away from her but he finally sat in the chair recently vacated by his partner.

"I owe you a lot, Hetty, and that's the only reason I'm still here."

"I understand."

"Do you? You're like a spider sitting in the middle of its web, spinning the strands that'll trap the unwary fly. I'm tired of being caught in your web."

"That's a very harsh assessment, Mr. Callen. I like to think I have always looked out for your best interests."

"What do you want from me?" he asked, suddenly weary.

"I want you to learn to trust and to have some happiness in your life."

"You don't think I'm happy?"

She noticed that he didn't dispute the lack of trust. "I think you have convinced yourself that you are, at least, content. Your mother, Clara, had a very different outlook on life when I knew her. You must understand that, if only for a short time, we were friends. She confided in me. She was very young and the idea of returning to her homeland on her first mission was exciting. Clara saw endless possibilities and was more than ready to embrace the challenges of a life in espionage. I caught glimpses of the kind of woman she would become. You lost everything the day she died. You grew up alone, trusting no-one and keeping even those who would be your friends at a distance." She felt moisture gathering in her eyes and looked away. "Kristen and Michael could be your salvation."

"I don't need saved," Callen replied although the heat had gone from his voice.

Hetty cleared her throat. "Perhaps not. I apologize for overstepping my bounds and hope I haven't made things worse."

"I guess I'll find that out when I see Kristen tonight."

"There was a time when you were ready to tell her the truth," Hetty reminded him. "What changed?"

"I grew older and wiser."

"That's not an answer," she chided.

"It's the only one you're going to get."

"I see. Then perhaps we should turn to other matters. We have heard rumours about a possible Chechen Jihadist cell operating in Los Angeles. There are no hard facts as yet."

"Which means it could just be a rumour designed to make the Agencies waste their time." Now that they were discussing business Callen began to relax and turn his mind to the task of gathering information.

"That's what we need to find out. I thought it might be productive for you to visit your old friend, Arkady. While you're there you can thank him for the use of his plane and…" Hetty hesitated, unsure whether her next suggestion had the potential to break their fragile truce.

"I'm not going to involve him in my personal problems," Callen said, accurately interpreting her silence. "Knowledge is power in his world. I'm not sure I'd trust him to keep any information about my parent's secret."

"You know that we can't use Agency resources to look for your father? At least, not officially."

"I'm not asking you to. When the time's right I'll take a leave of absence." Callen stood up. "Where's Sam?"

"I have put Mr. Hanna on light duties for a few days."

The ghost of a smile crossed Callen's face. "I bet he's furious about that."

"Let's just say that he wasn't very receptive to the idea."

NCISLA

Arkady was eating lunch by the pool when Callen arrived. None of his bodyguards were prepared to try to deny Callen access. They'd been humiliated too often by the deceptively soft-spoken Agent.

"Callen. Come in. Sit," Arkady said. "Where is your gloomy partner?"

"Busy." Callen pulled out a chair and sat down. The plate in front of Arkady was half-filled with blinis. A mound of caviar nestled in each one. He reached over and snagged one, taking a moment to savor the taste. "Iranian?" he queried. "You do know we have a trade embargo?"

Arkady smiled, displaying his teeth like a shark. "What can I do for you?"

Callen looked around to ensure that no-one could overhear their conversation. "Have you heard anything about a Chechen cell operating here?"

"Can I offer you a drink before we discuss business?" Arkady lifted a bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket at his side. "A 1966 Dom Perignon. Very rare. I only have two bottles left in my cellar."

"No thank you."

"A pity. It is very fine and a fitting way to toast your unexpected fatherhood."

"My private life's off-limits, Arkady," Callen warned.

"Yet the formidable Henrietta Lange came to me to ask for help. I am happy for you, my friend. I was never blessed with children…"

"That's because your wives kept dying unexpectedly," Callen retorted with venom.

"True. It has been my burden in life to suffer so much marital unhappiness."

"You don't look very unhappy," Callen observed. He narrowed his eyes. "How do you know Hetty?"

"Our paths crossed from time to time. It was fortunate that we were usually on the same side."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Ask her yourself. Now, what was it you wanted to know? Ah, yes. Chechnya has always been troublesome. Now that it is no longer at war with Russia its extremists have turned their attention to the West. I will make enquiries."

"Let me know what you find out." Callen stood up to leave. "Thank you for the plane, Arkady."

"Anything for a friend." Arkady took an appreciative sip of his champagne. "And, of course, it is always useful to have Henrietta owe me a favour."

"She owes you nothing. When it's time to collect you come to me."

Tbc

Caroline

July 2013


	20. Chapter 20

This is the final chapter. When I started this story I saw the final scene very clearly and I was wrong. Some will like the ending and some won't. I feel, though, that I have been true to the way this story developed. Thank you for reading and for the wonderful reviews. Your support means everything to me.

**An Eye for an Eye**

**Chapter Twenty**

Some memories are so precious that you cling onto them even in the face of unforgivable betrayal. Callen stood on the sidewalk staring at Kristen's house. He'd been happy here, letting down his guard and fooling himself into believing it was real instead of the pretence it actually was.

He could almost taste the good-bye kiss he'd given her on that last morning when he knew the operation was coming to an end. A few hours later he, Jon, Gale and Perez had been arrested. Had he really considered Kristen's feelings when he decided to leave without a word? That part was hazy. He clearly remembered surrendering to his fellow NCIS agents. Cuffs tethered his wrists before he was put in the back seat of a car. He'd been freed as soon as they were out of sight of the others. His part in the investigation was at an end. It was now up to others to break down the conspirators and secure convictions.

Congratulations followed, accompanied by the sentiment that he must be happy to finally go home. Except that he'd had no home; just a crappy one room apartment in a nondescript building. Home, as he had finally discovered, meant something very different. With a heavy sigh he walked to the front door. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Kristen apparently wanted him to see Michael. In many ways it would have been easier if she had been the one to close that door again.

Despite doubting the wisdom of agreeing to this meeting Callen couldn't deny that he was looking forward to seeing his son. He rang the bell, his hand not entirely steady. When Kristen answered the door she looked more rested than the previous day at the airport.

"You came," she said, her tone indicating mild surprise.

"I said I would. I'm sorry I should have got here earlier." He didn't offer an explanation and would never admit the truth. He'd been parked a couple of blocks away for over an hour wrestling with his conscience.

"Come in." Kristen stepped to one side. "Michael's in bed. With the time difference he's all messed up. He fell asleep mid-afternoon." She followed him inside. "You can go and see him if you'd like. He's in the back bedroom. You remember the way?"

"Yes." He hid his disappointment. He should have anticipated that Michael's sleep pattern would be disturbed and it was after eight o'clock anyway. In his heart he knew that part of his earlier prevarication had been designed to avoid interacting with his son. It would have made it harder to do what he'd come for.

When he reached the door to the bedroom he'd shared with Kristen his footsteps faltered. It had been over six years since they had last made love but he could still feel her smooth skin under his hands. He closed his eyes and let the memories wash over him. He'd broken Kristen's heart. That was what her brother had told him in the minutes before being gunned down. What he hadn't fully admitted until now was that he'd broken his own heart as well.

When he opened his eyes he saw a faint light shining through the partly open door across the hall. He pushed it open. The blinds were closed but a night-light glowed in the corner. It was enough to show him that the room appeared immaculate. He could imagine Kristen cleaning and tidying it in anticipation of her son's return. He walked closer to the bed. Michael had burrowed down under the duvet so that only the top of his head was visible. Moving silently Callen got close enough to bend down and press a gentle kiss on Michael's silky blond hair.

"Sleep well," he whispered. "I love you."

His throat was tight when he returned to the main room. Kristen perched uneasily on the edge of the sofa, two bottles of beer waiting on the table in front of her.

"I thought you'd like a drink," she said.

Callen sat opposite her. "Is Michael okay? He saw some bad things."

"He hasn't said much about what happened before you rescued him. He won't stop talking about you, though. He likes you."

"He'll forget me soon enough."

"Is that really what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want. This is the only way to keep you and Michael safe."

"You don't know that. I'd say it was more likely to put us in harm's way." Kristen ran a hand through her hair. "Why is this so hard?" she said, frustrating lacing her words. "It used to be so easy to talk to you. I've been over this conversation a dozen times in my head. I know what you're going to say and I know you believe it's the right thing to do."

"It is."

"Can we just, for one minute, pretend you haven't already made up your mind?"

"What good would that do?"

"Please."

"You know what I am Kristen. I'm an undercover agent trained by the Federal government to become whoever and whatever they need me to be. I'm not Jason Tedrow. He doesn't exist. You fell in love with a ghost."

The color had disappeared from Kristen's cheeks. "I know I was just a job to you and that there'll be plenty of other women…"

"No," Callen said. "No. I should have told you who I was once the operation was over. I'd told you so many lies and talked myself into believing that it would hurt you less if I just disappeared. I was wrong."

"Two years ago you came here to tell me the truth. Why?"

"Seeing you again made me realize I'd made a mistake. And I thought…that maybe Michael was my son."

"Would you have stayed if I'd told you the truth?"

"It doesn't matter now." He couldn't look at her while telling another lie.

"Alright, then tell me what changed?"

"You know the answer. Hetty made sure of that," he said bitterly. Hetty's betrayal left a sour taste in his mouth.

Anger flared in her eyes. "You're not the only one who has trust issues. I've only loved two men in my life and both lied to me."

"Tommy was a good man. He might have lied to you in the beginning but he loved you and Michael. He was willing to die or go to jail to keep you safe. If he could risk that then I can at least stay away from you. You don't want to get mixed up in my sordid life. I've nothing to offer you that doesn't come with too heavy a price."

"Do you remember what it was like growing up without a father? Is that what you want for Michael?"

He flinched from her verbal attack. Hetty had handed Kristen the ammunition and it appeared she was willing to use it. He had to admire her guts. "Yes, I remember but Michael has you and a home. He has a stability I never got to experience." He gazed at her earnestly. "My job doesn't allow me to stick to a routine. I could be gone for weeks without any chance of contacting you. How do you explain that to a child?"

"I'd find a way. Why are you so afraid of commitment? I'm not asking you…I know we're over. I'm not trying to use Michael to get you to come back to me." A flush crept into her cheeks and then receded leaving her paler than ever.

Callen did nothing to show that the small sliver of hope he'd been harboring had just disintegrated. Kristen was being brutally honest and deserved the truth. "When I saw Michael again it was like I'd been struck by lightning. He was everything I'd ever dreamed of and never expected to have. I wanted to hold him tight and protect him from all the bad things in the world."

A faint smile caressed Kristen's lips. "That was how I felt the day he was born."

"I'd never felt that way before. It was different from the way I felt about you. I don't know how to explain it," he added helplessly.

"You don't have to. Any parent would understand. Why are you so determined to walk away if that's how you feel?"

"It's better for him. It'll spare him the poisonous legacy left by my family. If I don't leave today it will happen in the future and that'll be harder on all of us."

"You're forgetting that he's already been tangled up in your past. That bitch who took him knows who he is. It isn't a secret anymore that you're his father. Isn't he safer if you're around?"

"There's one way to keep you both safe. Go into protective custody.."

"No!" Kristen said fiercely. "I'm not going to live a lie and neither is Michael. You can stay involved in his life or you can leave. It's your choice but I'm not going to lie to him any longer. He will know who his father is and, when he's older, if he wants to contact you I won't stop him. Before you decide I want you to answer one question. Hetty told me about your father. How will you feel if you find him and he tells you he left to keep you safe? Will that make it any easier for you to forgive him?"

Callen's pulse was racing. The assault on his fragile protective barriers was more than he could withstand. "I don't know. Please, Kristen, you have to stop."

"Why should I? Do you think Michael will find it an acceptable excuse? Are you shutting him out to protect him or because you're too cowardly to try forming a relationship with him?"

"Enough!" Callen stood up abruptly. The pounding in his head had almost reached a crescendo. "You have the power to do a lot of damage. I'm asking you to stop."

Kristen had covered her face with her hands and her chest was heaving with the force of her sobs. He was faced with a choice; leave or stay and risk unraveling his resolve. He walked over and sat beside her being very careful not to touch her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've made it worse. I'm sorry."

"No, you were right. I've spent most of my life avoiding relationships because nothing good has ever lasted." Now that the moment was here all he could see was Michael's face and his trusting innocence. He couldn't imagine a life that didn't involve his son. "I'd like to try and be a father to Michael but I don't know how."

Kristen raised her head. Her nose and eyes were red and there were tear tracks on her cheeks. "Children don't come with an instruction manual," she said with a hint of humor. "You have to learn as you go along."

"I can't make any promises except one. I will never do anything to hurt Michael."

"Then you've already made a good start."

The weight lifted from Callen's chest. His decision was made. Time would tell if it was the right one. For tonight, though, he was at peace.

The end.

Caroline

August 2013


End file.
